A Merciful Game
by demonsshade
Summary: Cyril, trapped in SAO, must learn the hard truths of life, where the bare and sadistic true nature of humanity becomes dominant. Even so, he tries to keep his morality together despite the world itself forcing him to lose his humanity. Will he succeed? OC with occasional Kirito/Asuna.
1. Beginning

**August ****29, ****2023**** – ****39****th ****Floor ****– 137 Days after the April Incident:**

They're only forty, maybe fifty, feet back now. They're getting closer.

I suppress the panic starting to well up my throat, knowing that if I made one wrong decision, I'd be dead.

I'd like to avoid that, you know?

Briefly, I my thoughts ran back to Steffana, my clan-mate and friend, and whether she had successfully escaped or not. The PKers had decided to force us to run in opposite directions, and I knew Steffana would have a harder time of getting away. She has both a much lower Dexterity level than me _and _she was heading in the general direction away from town.

We were mappers, her and I. I'm not sure why I'm thinking about this now. I mean, I'm fleeing for my life, and my pursuers are not to be trifled with. PKers on the front-lines were extremely rare, but those few that dared ventured to prey on the strongest players tended to be very powerful themselves.

Another reason this was unusual was because of the style of the PK. It was a hunt. Generally speaking, a hunt is a vicious tactic used when PKers want to be able to _play _with their prey. A player is captured, and their health potions and teleport crystals (sometime weapons and other items too, but not in this case) are taken away. After that, the player is turned loose and allowed to try and make it to safety.

Safety for me was Ullivyne, the lone town on this floor.

I try to focus on fleeing, I really do, but my mind was strained and tired. Steffana and I had just completed a full day of mapping this floor's dungeon, and we were both already extremely tired. Then we were captured.

We had briefly argued about whether to warp back to town or not – her in favor of it, me not – and ultimately decided to walk, considering the expensive nature of teleport crystals.

I'm on rocky, unstable ground, but I risk a glance backwards anyway. My Detection skill pinpoints four figures – half of the ambushing party me and my partner had run into. I stumble and nearly fall, swearing as I recover, picking up the pace again. In that instant, they gained five feet on me. _Damn it all. I'm too distracted right now. Focus on the running. Focus on escaping, and surviving._

Survival.

That's all this game is about.

o

It was a small rock that proved so large a foe. Inebriated by fear and exhaustion, I stepped on it awkwardly and fell to the ground. By then I had been running so fast that, when I fell, I slid for a few dozen feet, but I was smart enough to align myself facing my pursuers by the time I stopped. Salvaging the situation as much as I could, I took a gamble, leaping towards them, bow drawn, loosing an arrow at the closest of my assailants.

Perhaps fortune smiled on me after all. When the arrow struck his leg it gives out, tripping him. One of the other attackers falls over him, face-planting inelegantly. A third, who didn't quite stop, is thrown off balance. I shift my attention to him as I run forward. I'm too close to fire an arrow, so I draw a dagger, driving it into his side. We fall backwards, me on top of him, and his hp decreases to about half. Again, another sign of luck. My assailants are probably below my level. While on top of the man my Combat Thieving skill auto-activates, giving me a few of his health potions. Hopefully they're his only ones.

I roll off him, pushing myself back into a standing position, positioning my dagger in front. The one who manages to entirely avoid my surprise attack is hanging back, assessing the damage. The enemy I shot isn't too badly injured, but he had incurred a Limb Penalty. Using that leg for a little while would be difficult. As he looks to be a melee fighter, I figure I could discount him for now. The one who tripped over him is just realigned himself now, angry, but not stupidly so. He glances between me and the man I had stabbed, who was laying on the ground and seems unsure whether to risk getting up or not.

We don't feel pain in SAO in the traditional sense of the word. It's perhaps one of the more merciful components of this death game. People here only scream when they die out of fear, not pain. Or, I hope that's it. I've had limbs chopped off. I've been impaled. I've come so close to death, yet all I, and the rest of the players, feel is a cold numbness. So despite the fact that I just stabbed someone, the guy can definitely stand if he wanted to. However, I can easily kill him if he did it now. He's only a foot or so away. I can sink my knife into his neck faster than his friends can run to attack me.

Well, friends is a liberal term. These are orange players, criminals, so I'm willing to bet they aren't all too close. Still, playing off of friendship is a possible way of escaping this mess. I step towards the stabbed man, placing my knife against his throat. This was a high damage point. The feeling of cold, sharp steel against your throat isn't a pleasant one, and is certainly not one I'd like to feel again. However, my life is on the line. I feel no empathy for a man who had just tried to kill me.

"I'll make this very clear," I say, struggling to keep my voice calm and collected. "Return my teleport crystals and potions, and I'll spare this bastard."

The one who hadn't fallen seems more the leader than the others, and he responds for them. His expression seems neutral, and he says "You've turned into quite the hunt. I like that. Relish the kill, so to speak." His cold gray eyes elicit no emotion but excitement. He hurriedly pushes a lock of blonde hair out of his eyes, his smile wide.

It baffles me. Why would he kill people in this game? His kind weren't exactly rare, and those like him persisted with their sadism. It was innately self-destructive for them to murder others in this game. It lessens their chances of getting free. Yet, they persist.

"You heard me. Return my potions and crystals." I press the knife harder; a trickle of simulated blood runs down my captive's neck. If the leader was this crazy, I was starting to doubt that he'd be willing to let me walk away. I was not a large man, and while leveling I had focused mainly on dexterity. While this gave me superior running ability, it was problematic when dealing with multiple foes in close quarters, especially when I had little energy left to flee. The hostage was my only viable escape.

"No. I could care less about him." I steel my expression, hiding the sudden drop in my stomach. "Kill him quickly, if you must. I just want to see you bleed."

"Alright, then," I grimace, tensing my muscles, ready to slice, and-

"Wait!" The other man, the angry one who tripped, steps forward. I stare at him expectantly. "He's my friend, don't kill him." _Please._Anger turns to pleading now. It's thick in his voice. The leader turns to him, his face twitching with anger, but the other man continues. "You can have my teleport crystal if you want, but just let him go."

He digs into his pockets before pulling out a palm-sized, shining blue crystal. After he tosses it to me, I let it slide towards me before grabbing it with my free hand, not taking my eyes off of the two of them. I can still see the third one laying in the dirt with the arrow in his leg, watching the situation carefully.

I nod my thanks to the man who had so quickly gone from trying to murder me to saving my life and shout "Teleport, Ullivyne!". A swirl of blue light envelopes me as I am transported. The last thing I see before my vision going white was the blonde-haired leader grabbing my savior roughly, brandishing his blade.

o

** December ****3, ****2022**** – ****2****nd ****Floor**** – 131 Days before the April Incident:**

It's been a little under a month by now. 2,000 dead already, and I have a sinking feeling in my heart that my odds of survival weren't too good. I had been one of the first to teleport to the second floor city. I had to see progress with my own eyes; progress meant that maybe there was hope after all.

What I saw didn't really help.

The casualties in the first boss fight wasn't immense, – only one person died, a beta tester named Diabel – especially when compared to the massive amount of deaths due to suicide and stupid beginner mistakes thus far, but it disheartened many of the soldiers. Even the man responsible for the boss's defeat, some soloist beta tester and cheater I had heard about in passing, had abandoned the roughly organized groups struggling to fight up the tower.

A hundred floors, and it took a month with 2,000 dead just to clear the first? The game was starting to look more bleak with every passing moment.

Of course, first, let me get a few things clear.

On November 6, 2022, the game Sword Art Online was released and the only available 10,000 copies of the game were quickly sold out. I had grabbed one of the last copies available by pre-order over a year before that. Excitement isn't a word that could adequately describe the feelings I had for this game. I was a sophomore in college, living with my irresponsible yet charming roommate in a comfortable situation. Despite being content with life, I had always been fascinated with the concept of virtual reality, and was determined the be able to test it out.

With the helmet-like Nerve-gear fitted snugly around my head, I full-dived into the world of Aincrad. The experience was like none-other. The detail was akin to real life. I could touch, smell, taste; hearing and sight was all I had expected. Tempted as I was to run out of the town to fight, I couldn't help but be enamored by the architecture of the game as well. I pulled out the bow I was issued when I started the game, tested it out on a wall and immediately knew which weapon I'd favor.

To put it quite simply, I was in love.

Though only for a few hours.

It was after 5pm. I had a job to get to in just an hour or so for my incredibly inconvenient evening shift, so after killing another boar I decided to call it quits. I opened the menu, and found no log-out button. I won't bother with the details of what happened next. All of Japan probably knew about it by then.

It's shortly after nightfall on the second floor, and I find it hard to move from the central plaza. Denial is not a thing easily escaped from. It's a disease that swept through many of the people stuck in this game, making them lazy, stupid and dangerous. Though outwardly I chastised these people as weak, I knew as well as they that hope for the impossible was infectious. I hope every day for some miracle, that some outside force disables the game and let me free.

There were even those who argued that if they died they would return to the living world, safe and sound. Of course, if that was the case, then people in the real world would have quickly caught on and removed our Nerve-gear by now. My hope is more esoteric, more miracle-based. It was unhealthy.

So I deny my denial. I force myself to understand that this world was my world now. There is no chance of salvation, so, finally, I step off that platform and start hunting.

o

**August 30, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 138 Days after the April Incident:**

I watched the only gate in Ullivyne all night to see if my partner had returned, but she never showed up. It was possible she had gotten hold of a teleport crystal herself and teleported to a different floor, but I could feel it in my gut that wasn't the case. It was a few hours after sunrise that I gave up, too exhausted to think properly. I briefly glance over my friend's list and scan for her, but come up with nothing.

A cloud hangs over my head as I stumble to an inn, mad at myself for abandoning her. Logically, I know I couldn't have helped her. The sadists who chased us didn't want an easy prey, but they were incredibly persistent. Their behavior still baffled me, but I feel anger more than anything now.

My partner had been Steffana, a brute of a woman who was a monster with a greatsword. She was the definition of unattractive, with bad teeth, a buzz cut, a misshapen face (especially her nose, which had been broken badly sometime in her life and never healed properly), and an overly-masculine body. She was more of a man than most men.

Yet she had been one of the most tolerable people I'd met in this game. She protected me well, and I her. It had become almost second nature to fight with her these last few months, with her heavy armor giving me all the edge I needed to loose arrow after arrow. We fought out of too many tight spots to count.

_Gone._

As I stumble into the inn, rent a room with my near incoherent voice and plow my way into the available room, I can't stop thinking about the fact that she had been taller than me. I fall asleep imagining that ugly smile of hers.

Vicious pounding on my door drags me from a fitful, nightmarish sleep a few hours later. I sit up quickly in cold sweat, panic grasping at my heart. After a moment I calm down, remembering that I was in a safe zone, a town, and that the door to my room was indestructible.

"God damn it, I know you're in there!" A familiar voice, the annoying, high pitched squeal of Thomas, my clan leader's personal secretary and willing slave. He's young, intelligent, but painful to deal with. He's a kiss-ass who would do anything for a higher-ranked member of my guild. I don't think he considers me as one. "Armand wants to know what the hell happened and you'd better get your ass out of there _right__now!_" The final syllables almost rise to a squeal.

I start to respond, but stop. The doors were soundproof from the inside, and I would only be able to hear him for a few more seconds. A privacy feature, I suppose. Inns are completely secure places. You can't just sleep anywhere in this game with the Sleep-PKers about.

Slipping out of bed, I realize I had forgotten to unequip my armor before I had fallen asleep. My weapons, a bow and two daggers, lay nearby on a nightstand. I sheath the daggers at each hip and swung the bow over my back. Conveniently, the game automatically fastens it there, so I didn't have to worry about securing it.

The game tries hard to be convenient.

"Open up already! I'm tired of your sh-" I swing the door open and the boy falls forward slightly, then catches himself. He clears his throat, adding in a sarcastic tone, "I'm glad you've finally decided to join me."

"My pleasure," I grunt. The kid seems only around 14. It'd be a tragedy for him to be stuck in this game if he wasn't so damn annoying. "How'd you find out where I was?"

"My Detection skill surpasses your Stealth skill. All I did was scan for you." Thomas said proudly, walking in front of me as we head out of the inn. I'm used to quick interruptions like this. I already figured that I'd be summoned to be talked to about the previous day. It was no surprise with Steffana gone.

"Relish that while you can, kid." It was a competition between he and I for us to level Detection and Stealth, respectively. He always wanted to find me since I always wanted to hide from him. I chuckle and make a passing comment about it. To me it seems empty, but he takes it as a challenge. Already he starts tongue-lashing me again, but I'm hardly listening.

Thomas leads me out of the inn, talking all the way. Ullivyne is a fairly small town, but it's heavily populated. It's the only sizable safe zone with a teleport platform on the entire floor, but it's still easily thirty times smaller than the starting city. It's so small that much of the front line soldiers are actually on the floor below. The guilds agreed to keep their men out of inns on this floor, an unusual thing, so scouts and soloists could have a place to sleep. Still, the situation was uncomfortable and tense; the atmosphere shows in the town. A little way to my right, I can see a merchant and customer squabbling intensely over a price. It seems like it would devolve into a fight. Though neither could kill the other in a town under regular circumstances, a duel to the death is allowed. Most people, thankfully, don't choose to participate in those.

Thomas takes me toward a large building near one of the NPC guard towers on the edge of town, where the clan leaders had been coordinating the front line. The two major clans, The Holy Dragon Alliance and the Knights of Blood, are stationed here, as is the leader of my clan, Judgment's Arm. A few other notable clan leaders are here as well, as communication is of vital importance on the front lines. Thomas takes me into the building, nodding at the guards, who wear the KoB colors. As the KoB officially set up their clan headquarters on this floor, – a stupid decision, if you ask me – they're in charge of security.

Up a staircase and into a room on the left are the leaders, discussing some battle plan. There are six of them in total here, representing the largest of the clans. Despite being most powerful, the KoB actually has fewer members than all the rest present, though they were still larger than most. The Army, despite being the largest clan, is not represented.

"Finally decided to join us?" Armand says when he notices me, taking off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirt. The other leaders start to quiet down. "We got your message, though I could hardly understand it. You mentioned being attacked? Where's Steffana?"

I never could figure out if Armand wore his glasses for any real reason or not. Did poor eyesight really get included in the game? Or was he just really intent on looking smart?

I'm grateful Armand didn't immediately ask for the map data I had been sent to collect. Concern isn't a trait Armand lends naturally to, though I can tell he has been trying to be more sympathetic. However, he's a leader. Leaders do not see the people. They see the numbers, the plans, the expenses, as much as they hate to admit it.

"She's gone. A rogue group of PKers captured us. We escaped, but were forced apart by them when they tried to hunt us down." I keep the details simple. I don't want to seem like I was simply prey to those men. "I managed to escape, but I believe they captured her."

"Believe?" Armand opened up the menu with his right hand and found the Friend's List icon. He opened it and scrolled to Steffana's name. He initiates a scan, but comes up with nothing for the floor.

"When I scanned for the two of them, I was only able to locate him," Thomas jerked a finger towards me, "Steffana, however, is invisible to me. Now, since I know she has a very low Stealth level, only two things are possible. One, she grinded that skill an incredible amount to surpass me," _It's __funny __how __his __expression __so __clearly __states__ '__And __I __clearly __doubt __that.'_"Or she has been captured and placed under a stealth field."

"While that is regrettable, the map data is what matters at this point. I'll send a scouting party to look for her on this floor when it's been cleared." Armand says matter-of-factly, "The data, please." He gestures to me.

I quickly open my menu and extract it from my inventory, where it materializes in front of me as a worn-looking scroll. I hand it to Armand. "But isn't it odd? Player killers on the front lines? They try to avoid us at all costs. We're too dangerous."

"With all due respect," A girl standing next to the leader of the KoB leader speaks up, "We are intent on planning our assault on the boss. While it is regrettable that your friend is in danger, it's difficult to spare manpower to help her at this time. Let's tackle one issue at a time."

I narrow my eyes. I know that girl, and she was proving her reputation for being self-righteous. Asuna the Flash is a vice-commander of the KoB and is a notoriously distant and focused individual. Heathcliff, their leader, who is sitting on a chair next to her, nods his head in agreement. A few others agree as well. She's beautiful, certainly, but I can't help but feel a deep sensation of revulsion for her at that moment. Why people practically worshiped her was beyond me.

"So please, Cyril," Asuna says, "Can you give us a description of the boss? While it pains me to put it off to the side, I'll be sure to aid you in locating your friend once the floor boss is dealt with."

As hastily as I can without omitting essential details, I tell the leadership of the floor boss, a great serpentine monster with zombie thralls supporting it, and leave. With their lack of concern for a fellow player, I can't stand being around them anymore. I know nobody would object to finding her after the boss fight, but what if we're too late?

But I know that soon I'll be called off to fight the boss with them, so I have to put this disdain behind me. Now, though, I find myself narrowly focusing on one thing. Steffana was alive! With this in mind, I worm around a crowd and sit at a table in a restaurant, thinking about my next move. I ponder for a short while, staring out a window.

I didn't even notice the girl across from me.

"It's not often I see someone bold enough to sit at my table, then ignore me." A distinctly feminine voice mused. "Oh, now you're looking at me?"

"Who...?" I start, momentarily confused, before realizing I'm being rude. "My apologies, I'll leave you alone." I start to stand up.

"No, wait." She extended her hand, smiling at me slightly. "I'm Eri, a solo player and Tracker. It's nice to meet you." I sit back down, getting a good look at her. She's a pretty girl, probably a year or two younger than me. Purple hair, which was tired back in a ponytail. People in this game got unrealistic hair colors for a variety of reasons. Though we all look, physically, like our real world selves as of November 6, 2022, we were allowed to change our hairstyles. Some like the fantasy feeling you get with wrong-colored hair.

I take her hand, shaking it professionally. "Cyril. I'm a scout and member of Judgment's Arm."

"I recognized the emblem." She coos, locking her fingers together and laying her chin on them, her elbows propping her up. If I wasn't mistaken, she was being mildly flirtatious. There's only one other girl I knew of that acted that way towards me, and I haven't seen her in a month. "Impressive. So, you a front-liner?"

"The back of the front line is where I try to be, though I'm not always allowed it." I can't help but cock a smile. I don't usually get to talk to pretty girls in this game. I rarely got to talk to girls at all. Steffana didn't count as a girl. "You said you're a Tracker, right?"

An idea is already forming in my head.

"Yup. That's my game."

"I wonder if I could get your help with something."

Even though I can't scan the map for Steffana, a Tracker can help me find her. A smile forms on my face as I continue to talk to this pretty little oddity, a singular thought shaping itself in my head. I may be able to save Steffana after all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hey there! You're done with my first chapter! There's a long road ahead of you and Cyril (my main character), but I'd like to ask a favor from you, the reader. In order to know how well I'm doing (or how badly), I need some sort of response from readers. So please, if you have anything to say, anything at all, leave a review. It is greatly appreciated. Thanks!

**Edit**:

Rewrote this chapter as I felt the quality was somewhat lacking. Also changed its layout a bit.


	2. Betrayal

_"__The __damned __boy __is __useless. __He __can't __learn __a __thing, __keeps __making __the __same __mistake __over __and __over __again.__" __Fighting, __again. __They__'__re __always __fighting.__ "__It's __your __fault. __He __takes __after __you.__"_

_ Usually __she__ would be __silent, __staring __at __her __feet, __the __sides __of __her __dress __gripped __tight __in __her __fists. __I __can __understand __why. __If __you __keep __quiet, __he __stops__ faster__. __'Yes, __sir,'__ i__s __all __he __wants __to __hear, __but __she __won't __humor __him __this __time._

_"__All __he __wants __is __some __sort __of __affection.__" __She __says __quietly, __looking __up __at __him.__ "__If __you __actually __cared __about __this __family, __you __wouldn't __distance __yourself __from __him __so __much. __He's __just __a __little __boy. __You __can't __throw __your __own __family __away.__"_

_"__I n__ever __wanted __this!__" He's tossing __his __hands __up, __shouting. __I __flinch, __dropping __my __head __below __the __top __of __the __couch __and __closing __my __eyes.__ "__I __never __wanted __a __god __damned __family! __But __you __had __to __get __knocked __up! __This __is __your __fucking __fault, __you __useless __piece __of __shit. __Why __did __I __ever __have __to __meet __you? __You __ruined __my __life!__"_

_ I __crouch, __sticking __my __head __between __my __hands. __'I __don't __understand,' __I __quietly __whisper __to __myself. __'Why __am __I __so __horrible?'_

_ But __no __matter __how __many __times __I __ask __myself __this, __I __never __find __an __answer. __The __fighting __doesn't __stop. Neither __of __them __notice __me __crying._

o

**August 31, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 139 Days after the April Incident:**

My alarm blares, ignominiously jolting me from my sleep. I swear to myself as I sit up in bed, opening the system menu and disabling it. I fall back, staring at the ceiling of my room in silence. Outside, I can hear the early hustle and bustle of the waking city. There's more movement than usual. Today's a boss day, so everyone have a slightly nervous air about them.

Today is also the first boss fight in a long time that I wouldn't be participating in. I feel odd, almost like I've turned my back on my clan. Boss fights usually need as many people as possible, within reason. As a ranged attacker, I usually prove valuable in taking them down. I can attack the boss without pause because I don't have to worry about switching out like melee fighters do.

Confliction crosses my mind for just a moment. Perhaps clearing the floor truly is more important than finding Steffana. However, I remind myself, they don't necessarily need me. They'll be fine on their own, though I may get chewed out by Armand for not showing up.

I sit up, equipping my armor and weapons. I suppose I'm unconventional by using a bow and two daggers. In SAO, many players opted towards defensive classes – a natural reaction to the fact that if they die here, they die for real. Thus, heavily armored people are very popular. Archers like myself are uncommon among regular players for a variety of reasons, including its general lack of defense. It's also considered a "dishonorable" class. Generally speaking, archers are very good at ambushing and killing people, leading it to being a useful class for PKers. As a result, many seem distrusting of me when they see my weapon.

The exception, however, seems to be this Eri girl.

"I haven't seen an archer for a long time." She remarks when I join her downstairs. When I join her she's leaning out a window, feeding virtual birds with something from a pouch hanging at her waist. "Everyone's all serious about being heavily armored, like it makes a difference. It's pretty cool, I think, that you're different. Still, don't you archers have a low survival rate?"

"We lack defensive abilities, so sneaking becomes a must for archers." I say, walking to the counter to pay the NPC for the night at the inn. "In the beginning, not a lot of people knew that, so a lot of people trying to be archers died really quickly due to silly mistakes. Most of the rest were scared into being swordsmen or other close-combat warriors for some reason or another."

I motion for the door and she nods. We're going to be heading North from the town, towards where I fought the PKers. Eri claimed she can trace my steps back to the ambush site, then track down Steffana from there.

As we exit the inn, she bites her lip and speak, "You know, Cyril, you never asked me what weapons I used in combat," She maintains a slightly coquettish tone in her voice. I find it curious, but I suppose that, as one of the few attractive females in the game, she can easily get a lot by flirting. Briefly I wonder if I've been affected by it, but I discard the thought quickly. Ever since I parted with my last partner I've felt no such interest. "We might be fighting together, since we're dealing with PKers. Shouldn't you know as much about me as possible?"

"I already know how you fight." I respond. We're walking side by side towards the lone gate in town, people rushing along at our sides, preparing for the boss fight, hardly noticing us. I chuckle inwardly, thinking about how when the game started, people couldn't help but stop and stare at the more attractive players. Now, however, people care more about simply surviving the day. Admittedly, our chances seem to grow smaller every day.

"Oh?" I can tell I roused her curiosity. I glance over at her to ensure I have my facts straight. She wore light armor, like myself, but only has a single dagger at her hip for a weapon. However, the bag of feed hanging from her belt is the key.

"You're a Beastmaster." I said, confident of my choice. "You also specialized in Tracking, assuming I can believe the reason why I hired you for help, so you seem like a rather supportive class, rather than offensive."

"Clever, but how'd you figure it out?"

"That bag of feed at your waist is high quality. Pricey. Only a beastmaster would bother to buy such a thing." She pauses for half a second after I said this, effectively proving that I'm right. "The only problem is that you don't have any sort of monster with you, so I'd have to assume that either you let it free, or it died."

She says nothing for a long while, and I wonder if I've been a little too brusque. Beastmasters, while rare enough as it is, are known for becoming very attached to their familiars. "About a month back it died when I is attacked by PKers. I still have the feed from back then. Don't really have much to do with it now, and I can't really sell it because so few people need it."

"Ah, well, I'm sorry." We walk in silence for a little while, but the conversation picks up again after a little while. Even so, I avoid the subject of her lost pet.

o

"This is the place, Eri." I stop. We've been walking for about an hour, so I can still see the town in the distance. I can't help but be surprised by how close I would have been to escaping without fighting. We stand atop an arid plateau stretching out around us. In the distance I see the forest where I was captured the night before. Beyond the forest, the dungeon spiraled ever-upwards, the key to our salvation.

"Hmm," Eri opens her menu, activating a skill. A light purple tint covered her eyes, similar in color to her hair, which I still think is incredibly unusual. "Three people died here not too long ago, probably around when you escaped. Wow, I didn't realize you were so good."

"I didn't kill anybody when I escaped, but I think I know what happened." I say. "The leader of the PKers had seemed incredibly angry at my escape. It's possible he killed the other three last night." Inwardly, I wince. In a way, I'm responsible for their deaths. Even though they tried to kill me, it's not an easy thing to bear. I try to push it out of my mind, which I suppose is easier to do now than it used to be.

"Luckily, whoever survived didn't teleport back. He backtracked along your route, so it should be twice as easy to follow." She has a hard look in her eyes. "Player killers disgust me. They think that just because they're in a game with no real legal system they can do whatever they please. It's sickening."

"The Army has set up a prison for orange players, and the game itself has severe penalties for sexual harassment, but you're right. There is no true legal system." Eri starts forward, walking quickly towards the forest line.

"We'd best hurry up. The longer we wait, the more work it takes for my Tracking skill to work." Eri calls. I follow.

o

**December ****31, ****2022**** – ****5****th ****Floor ****– 103 Days before the April Incident:**

I stretch my arms as I exit the inn, preparing for another day of solo leveling and questing. Around me is the city of Warthus, the major city on this floor, and it was bustling with people, as it was a mere two floors down from the front lines. For some reason, the current top floor of the game was dubbed the 'front lines', though it doesn't really resemble a warzone.

People mill about the town square around me, talking, partying up, heading to their clan headquarters, or otherwise. It's full of life, and the streets are packed. It isn't long before my attention is grabbed.

"I'm telling you, my contact is right." I hear a fairly deep voice say, pronounced by its calm and tranquility. "There's no way we can damage that boss with our weapons. We're all melee. We need a ranged attacker." As I turn towards the voice, I see it's a man in a low-level robe with a staff on his back. He's with three others, a young kid in yellow and brown leather armor, a gruff and mean-looking twenty-something man with black steel armor and a greatsword, and an older teenager in light metal armor.

"What ranged attackers exist in this game? All I've seen are whips." The young one stamps his foot impatiently. "Are those even ranged weapons? Let's just go fight the boss again already!" I smile at this exchange and walk towards them.

"Azaj, we'll probably die if we-" The teenager says, but I interrupt him.

"If you're looking for an archer, I'll join up." They all look at me for a moment, and the teenager, who looks like their leader, cracks a smile. He's probably younger than me, with black hair and bright gray eyes.

"Well, isn't that lucky. Sure thing, we can use ya." He opens his menu, sending me a party invite, which I accept. I get a more detailed look at them. Judging from their equipment, they all seem to be around the same level as me, and I notice the leader uses a sword and shield.

"I'm Cyril." I smile, sticking my hand out to the leader. It's my first time in a party, and I'm determined not to make a bad impression. The youngest of them, the dagger user, seems like he's only 12. My stomach twists at that thought. For a child to be trapped in a game like this is severely traumatizing, as I had seen from the ones in Starting City. However, as I learn later, he seems to be the brightest and most cheerful of the group, despite everything.

We head out of the town around noon, and I find myself enjoying their company greatly, despite the inherent risk. Due to the dangerous nature of the game, there is a great deal of trust needed to form parties. People can easily ambush you by tricking you into trusting them, then stealing your items or even killing you. However, these four seem decent enough. Apparently they had all happened to be teleported near each other when the incident was first announced, so they decided to stick together to keep alive.

"I mean, we never would have met in real life." The leader, Sebastian, states some time after we had set out. "But now I guess this game is partly a good thing. I've never had such a close group of friends. I'm even thinking of starting a clan."

"At one point, we were even on the front lines!" The young one, Azaj, seems proud as he says it. "Although they've overtaken us by now. They're hardcore players up there."

"Why haven't you guys formed a clan yet? It will put you on the map for the front line players again if it's that close." I ask, curious. We're almost near a forest. To either side of me, the grasslands spread out. I can almost make out the hazy tower that connects each floor together in the distance, on the other side of the roughly-center town. I'm walking in the middle of the group, with Sebastian in front.

"Costs a bit of money, which we don't really have." Sebastian says, almost sheepishly. "That's kind've the reason why we're out hunting this field boss. According to some information I bought, it has a decent chance of dropping fairly rare items."

"Yeah, but when we fought it yesterday, we could hardly scratch it." Azaj explained, "Apparently it's got huge resistances to melee attacks, so archery is the only thing that can really damage it."

I nod. The other two haven't said much to me since we started out, merely introducing themselves. The staff wielding guy, John, seems pretty awkward, not really contributing to what conversation is going on, but he seems to be trying. The other one, Saul, is always focused on someone else. They make me slightly uncomfortable, but Azaj's happy demeanor and Sebastian's friendliness distract me from that.

"Are you a pure archer?" Sebastian asks me, tossing a look back at me. "I only see a bow and arrow on you. What other weapons do you use?"

"Nothing, I'm a pure." I said, and Sebastian chuckles.

"That's kinda foolish. You need some sort of close-range weapon. Your bow isn't infinitely versatile, especially if you're fighting a person. If they get too close and you can't run away, they can tear you apart." Sebastian almost seems to speak from experience.

"You fight a player before?" I blurt out, not thinking. Azaj flinches, but stays quiet.

"Yeah, back in the first month, someone tried to PK me while I was out hunting. I was only level five." Sebastian explains calmly. "He was an archer. Caught me by surprise with an arrow in my shield arm. I... killed him. It wasn't an easy fight, and by the time it is over, I was almost dead."

"Ever since then, we all made an agreement never to go out fighting alone again." Azaj adds, his eyes downcast.

"I'm lucky he was alone, but I still can't figure out why he'd just attack me like that. He didn't have a close-combat weapon, which is the primary reason I won, and he didn't seem desperate. He wasn't even orange at the time. Attacking me turned him orange."

We walk in silence for a ways. As we enter the forest, a dark and grim thing with great amounts of tree coverage, even Azaj diminishes in cheer. After an hour or so of walking with sporadic conversation, Sebastian holds up his right arm to stop us. He points ahead before turning his back to a tree. We all hide as well, while I try to Detect what's up ahead.

"It's the boss," Azaj says with certainty, crouching next to me. "Gotta admit, I'm still kinda nervous, even though we've got a good chance of winning with you."

"Let's get him!" The leader yells, diving out from cover and waving his weapon, charging into the clearing ahead. We all follow, weapons brandished.

o

**August 31, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 139 Days after the April Incident:**

"Stop!" Eri whispers harshly, ducking behind a bush. I slide in after her, my high stealth skill masking the sound. "My Detect skill is picking up a few oranges a hundred feet or so ahead of us. There's a green with them."

"Steffana..." I breathe. _Eri __has __a __higher __Detect __skill __than __me. I __can't __see __anyone. _I think briefly, before focusing ahead.

We've been walking for a few hours now, following the virtual trail back to the ambush site and then Steffana's path through the woods. Eri kept silent most of the way, focusing on the trail instead of talking, which surprised me. We ran into a few monsters, and she proved how skilled of a dagger user she is. Despite her lack of a longer or stronger weapon, Eri proved quite capable, and her dagger is able to inflict both Paralysis and Bleed effects, which can be incredibly deadly.

I find myself wondering what kind of circumstances would make a person choose merely a singular dagger for a weapon. Further than that, why would Eri even play this game? She is a fairly social girl, attractive, yet she chose to be one of the 10,000 who immersed themselves in a virtual game. Another surprising aspect of her is how she isn't actually as talkative as I originally thought. During the walk from the town to the plateau, she practically wouldn't stop talking, but as soon as she started tracking, she fell silent. I couldn't figure out why.

"I can see them talking, but they've put up a stealth field and my Listening skill isn't high enough to hear what they're saying. One of them must be fairly high leveled," Eri whispers to me, "I can't really see the green one, which I think is your friend. If only I grinded my Listening skill, I could figure out what's going on."

"How many of them are there?"

"Six, including your friend. That matches the numbers you gave me if we count the three dead I detected back at the plateau."

"We can count on Steffana helping us once we free her." I say, slightly nervous. "Three against five is decent odds." _But __still __very __dangerous. _Eri is silent for a little while, so I quickly add, "You don't have to fight, Eri. I paid you to get me to Steffana, not to help me free her. I can deal with the dangerous part."

"The dungeon isn't far from here, and there should be a group of people marching there to fight the boss. Why not ask them?" Eri asks. She glances up at me as I grab my bow from my back. I shake my head. "No? Why?"

"Armand is singularly focused on clearing the game, more so than most of the people I've met so far." I bit back my anger. "He wouldn't be willing to 'waste' men to save a clanmate. Not when there's a boss to kill."

"There's another green in the clearing, a kid, looks like. He just ran in." I look, but still can't see anything. "And he's gone again. It seemed like he was given orders by one of the oranges."

"I'm going to go in for an attack." I say, moving out from behind the bush. In front of me, I can see the breaks in the trees for the clearing they are talking in. I rush forward.

"Wait! Cyril!"

Ignoring Eri, I burst through the edge of the clearing, reaching for an arrow. I launch the first two in quick succession, both burying into the back of the nearest of the oranges. He falls, his health in the red. The other four oranges turn towards me, surprised. One of them is familiar, the blonde with the piercing eyes who attacked me. _So __I __guess __he __killed __my __other __three __assailants __after __all. __Psycho._

Inwardly, I'm grateful that green players are allowed to attack orange players without going orange themselves, so I don't have to be worried about being branded a criminal. Orange doesn't distinguish from a thief or a murderer, which can lead to a wide variety of assumptions.

I notch another arrow, letting it loose into the throat of another player. He falls back, virtual blood spewing from the grievous wound. I grimly realize that I hit a critical point, and his health falls to zero. He shatters, giving pause to the other oranges.

"Now, now, Cyril, maybe we can come to some sort of agreement." The leader smiles at me, lowering the sword he's drawn. Behind me, I hear Eri appear out of the underbrush. _Why __does __he __know __my __name? _I glance over to Steffana, who lays against a tree, unarmored, her arms behind her back. She is silent, but looks relieved to see me.

"Release her, and I won't kill all of you." I spit out, anger rising inside me. How dare they assault my friend!

"Tough talk, but your hateful speech doesn't really sway me." The man smiles crookedly. For some reason that smile seems incredibly familiar, but I can't place it. "You're just as bad as us, you know. Killing that man right there," He points at the spot the man have just vanished, "That's murder."

"Shut up, bastard," I can feel my stomach turn, but I ignore it. "Just give me Steffana."

"No." His grin grows wider. "In a few moments, a contingent of soldiers headed by Armand, your clan leader, is going to arrive, investigating the claims of an associate of mine. Of a kidnapping and a murder."

I pause, letting my arrow slide slightly. _What __the __hell __is __he __talking __about? _But still, my purpose here is clear. I pull my bow taut again, then let loose an arrow. The leader dodges it and runs toward me. The arrow hits the shoulder of the man behind him. The man grimaces as I nock another arrow, letting it loose into his forehead. He falls backwards, and as his health hits zero, he shatters.

By the time the second arrow is loosed, the leader has closed in on me. I toss my bow aside, which automatically returns to my inventory, and draw my daggers. His sword comes down towards me and I parry it with my right dagger, my left slashing at his chest. It cuts in, lowering his health somewhat, and I roll to my left. Kicking off from the roll, I charge at the other bandit, who is bent over the fallen one with low health. He notices me and his eyes go wide. He stands up too quickly, falls backwards, then scrambles into a run, vanishing into the trees.

I pivot, centering my attention on the leader, who has locked blades with Eri. He glances behind and sees me, then jumps away, placing himself in the center of the two of us.

"It seems this is getting dangerous for me." He chuckles. I walk around to the side; he follows the rotation. Soon I'm between him and Steffana, who have been watching the battle intently. "Time to split."

He throws something at the ground and a cloud of smoke erupts around him. Shielding my eyes, I see something dark dart off into the forest to my right. I swear in frustration at him getting away, but suddenly I feel like I have no energy.

Another two people dead by my hands. Somewhere in real life there are two people getting their heads microwaved by the Nerve-gear. Somewhere there might be two families soon to be informed of their deaths.

I may be laying next to them in a hospital right now. The family may not even know that I killed their son, their father, their brother. Oddly enough, I feel sick. For a moment, I can't help but be surprised by how SAO can replicate nausea so accurately.

I raise my right hand, my dagger still in it. It's shaking, somehow. Just earlier I was thinking of the PK leader as a psycho, but how am I any better? I shake my head. _I __have __to __be __better. __I __don't __just __murder __people randomly. __It__'__s __warranted, __right?_

Is it really? The other oranges may have been thieves, not murderers.

Somehow I wound up on my hands and knees, staring over the orange who failed to escape or die. He is the first one I caught with arrows, which had paralyzed him, probably because I managed to collapse his virtual lungs.

"Cyril..." I can hear Eri call out to me. I stand slowly, looking down at the paralyzed man still. He has shaggy shoulder-length brown hair. I can't see his face, since he is lying on his stomach, but it was likely scared, waiting for death at any moment. "Cyril! Behind you!"

I turn and find myself disbelieving. Steffana is charging towards me, a sword in her hand. I thought she was bound. What?

Things are going in slow motion, yet I find myself unable to react. I stand awkwardly, unsure of what's happening. Steffana is my friend. Why is she attacking me? Paralyzed by confusion and indecision, all I can do is stumble over backwards, falling over the bandit.

"Dammit, Cyril!" A flash of purple, and I see Steffana lurch sideways. I try to speak, but find I can't. Eri buries her dagger deep into Steffana's side, tackling her to the ground.

"No!" I shout, but it's too late. The Bleed and Paralysis effects on Eri's dagger take effect as Steffana's health is diminished far into the red zone. Steffana wasn't wearing armor, only clothes, so the damage done is massive. I run forward, towards Steffana's side, barely registering Eri's cursor turning orange. "Why?" I implore her, confused.

"Con...fused?" Steffana grimaces, but there is some sort of light in her eyes now as she whispers to me. I can barely hear her. "This whole... thing... This friendship... It was nothing to me." I flinch, taken aback by this. I vaguely notice her health ticking down, the bleeding effect taking its toll. Somehow in my stupor I remember I have no health potions. "You... took him away... from me. This... is my..." Her eyes roll back for a second. I shout at her, and she speaks again. "Revenge."

Her health ticks down to zero and she shatters. I sit there, shocked, unable to even think. Off to the side, I see a few people enter the clearing, I turn my head, recognizing them.

"There they are!" Thomas points at me, talking to Armand, my clan leader. A band of warriors emerges out of the clearing with him. A boss party. "I told you, that purple-haired woman was attacking Steffana and Cyril didn't help her! I ran as fast as I can!"

Armand seems speechless, but eventually he speaks "I don't want to believe it, but how can I deny what I've seen. Cyril, sitting over Steffana's dying body, her murderer just feet away. You're both being jailed for this, bastards!"

"Wait, wait!" I stand up in complete disbelief. "This isn't what it looks like! I didn't kill her!"

"No, you didn't. You're not orange." Armand says, clenching his fists. "But you didn't bother to stop that woman from murderingSteffana."

"No, you've got it backwards!" Eri cries out, clutching the sleeve of my coat. She whispers to me, "That boy, he's the one I saw talking with the bandit leader. I'm certain of it!"

"Look at them! They're planning something!" Thomas shouted, his voice full and panicked. "You have to stop them, Armand!" _Bastard!_

"Arrest them!" Armand shouts. His boss party charges at his command.

"Run!" Eri yells, dragging me backwards. I stumble briefly before picking up my pace, following Eri into the forest. Behind me I can hear the shouts of my pursuers. I can't even dare to look back behind me.

What the hell is happening? Steffana is dead, killed by Eri to save my life. And now Eri is a murderer, and I'm accused as an accessory? Why was Thomas with the bandits? What the hell is going on? My thoughts are racing, uncomprehending. One word keeps repeating itself over in my head.

_Why?  
_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Congratulations for getting through chapter 2! I feel like I should explain something. This story will cover two different time periods. The main one, where the main character is with Eri, will have the bulk of the attention. The second one is supplementary, diving into what happened in the earlier days of SAO with Cyril. Also, I may throw in dream sequences and memories, like the start of this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed chapter 2! Please, if you have something to say, review! I need reviews. D;

Oh, and if you see any errors in the text, like formatting errors or the like, let me know. My word processor acts weird when its stuff is uploaded to this site.

**Edit: **I decided to clean up any and all errors in this chapter that I could find as part of my ongoing effort to completely correct this fanfic.


	3. Aftermath

_ "We'll find a place for ya, kid." I'm not really paying attention to him by then. All I can see are the flames burning bright, valiantly combating the massive blasts of water, and the sirens blaring out, defiant in the night. The fire seems beautiful, powerful, all-consuming. "You're not going to be alone."_

_ Alone or not alone. At this point, I'm really sure if I care. The police officer doesn't say anything else. He leaves his hand on my shoulder. Is that supposed to be comforting? Reassuring? I can't tell._

_ This time, I didn't cry. No, I know it's wrong to cry._

_ So as all my memories burned away, along with that hellish place, I can't help but smile. I don't know if the officer saw it. If he did, he might have thought I was crazy. But now, I'm free._

o

** December ****31, ****2022**** – ****5****th ****Floor ****– 103 Days before the April Incident:**

"To our victory!" Sebastian raises his pint, and we follow suit. "And a Happy New Year!" We cheer. Immediately Azaj launches into a visceral, incredibly over-exaggerated dramatic representation of the fight with the field boss.

"And then, BAM!" Azaj yells, drawing the attention of most of the other patrons at the inn. "Cyril's arrow takes it in the shoulder and it goes down on one knee! WHACK! John hits him with his staff, its teeth flying wildly into the air!"

We laugh at the ridiculous version of the fight. He gets to when Sebastian had been knocked on his ass, his tone growing grim. "Our valiant hero is thrown backwards, and all seems lost! What are we to do? Is all hope gone from this world?"

He carries on like this for a long while, intermittently taking large quaffs of beer. I can't help but notice how SAO flagrantly discards real life laws. I suppose it's just a side-effect of the real tragedy, of the creator of the game trapping 10,000 lives in this death game, and thus he just didn't care about real life laws.

As the minimum age requirement to play SAO is twelve, any twelve-year-old in the game (that is still alive, of course) can become wasted on the alcohol that is readily available. Of course, it's only a simulated intoxication. I'm beginning to feel the effects of the 'alcohol' myself after a short while; there are a few noticeable differences between this and the real thing. While incredibly advanced, SAO is not perfect.

"WHAM! Cyril's final arrow lodges in its throat, and the monster falls. It thrashes and dies, and victory goes to us!" We cheer a bit as Azaj chugs the rest of his pint. Somewhere deep inside I know I should stop the 12-year-old get wasted, but living in this survivalist hell lends itself towards me not caring. "And the winner takes the spoils!"

"Speaking of spoils," Saul starts, his low, gravelly voice hushed. He hasn't been drinking much, I casually note. "How are we going to divide up the loot? The party system still has the items in standby. I'm particularly interested in the coat we found. It's leather armor, but it's ten levels above us."

"I think Cyril should get the coat." Azaj blurts out. "He's an archer and he needs good armor."

"I think in the middle of an inn is the wrong place to discuss loot." Sebastian smiles, holding up his hands. "We'll rent an inn room and discuss it there in privacy. Please, Azaj, continue with your stories."

Azaj readily agrees, and begins to regale us with a tale about some giant dragon he supposedly killed. Even John, the most serious and reserved of us, cracks a smile at that.

I laugh along with the rest, and for the first time since I started the game, I feel at ease.

o

"Alright, let's get down to business." It's an hour or so later, about 10pm in real life, when we sit down at a room in the inn to decide. "We've got three main pieces of loot that are contested here. A ring that boosts speed, which is a B-class item, a level 20 coat with Dexterity boosts, and a jeweled dagger. It's costly, but weak in combat."

Almost immediately the arguing starts. I mostly sit out, admiring the new bow I received as a drop. As I'm the only archer, everyone agreed it should go to me. There are two main reasons we're fighting over these items: because Saul insists that he gets the speed ring and the coat, since he feels too slow as a two-handed warrior, while Azaj wants them to go to me; and the leader wants to sell the dagger, while John, for reasons he isn't clear about, wants to keep it.

"Azaj is biased against me. My attack speed is terrible, so I need those items." Saul growls at Azaj, who glares back. I can't help but notice Azaj seems to possess some sort of Egyptian influence. He definitely has the eyes. His nearly bleach-blonde hair doesn't seem to match his facial features, thus he keeps the hair mostly covered by a gray beanie he bought from a tailor.

"Your attack speed wouldn't be so bad if you didn't go against my advice!" Azaj snaps at him. "I told you to level up Dexterity. Did you listen? No. That's why you're in this mess."

Though I doubt the efficacy of dealing with item distribution through argument, I keep silent. They seem intent on fighting.

"We can handle Saul's idiotic decisions later," John intervenes, "What about that dagger? Why should we sell it now? We might need it somewhere down the line!"

"Somewhere down the line, someone might break or steal it." Sebastian shot back. "It's priced around 2,000 Col. That can re-equip all of us with higher level gear!" He motions around the room.

I can't help but feel complimented by being included in "all of us". I've only been with them for a day, but already they're treating me like a long-time friend. Well, Azaj and Sebastian are. The other two, Saul and John, are a bit slow on warming up to me. John, at least, seems to be trying, while Saul doesn't care.

Speaking of the devil, Saul pipes up about me, "Why should we prioritize the newcomer, anyway? He hasn't earned the right to take the loot."

"He's the primary damage dealer!" Azaj shoots back at him. His inebriation has made the kid even more virulent and excitable than before, but less so than in the main room earlier. "If you can honestly say that we could have killed that boss without Cyril's help, then maybe you'd have a point. But if we didn't have you, Saul, we would've been fine!"

I can feel this argument is getting out of hand. I see Sebastian futilely trying to stop the argument, but Saul is already up and out of his chair. "Fine, then I'll fight Cyril for it!" I hold up my arms, unwilling to fight.

"I'm no part of this. I'm letting you guys decide who gets what." I say quickly, hoping this doesn't degenerate. I'm not worried about getting hurt, no. Towns are safe zones. However, I didn't want to fracture this new friendship I have with Sebastian and Azaj.

"Don't listen to Saul. He's always been an ass." Azaj sneers at the two-handed warrior, who grows visibly angrier by the second. "And he hardly even pulls his weight around here either!"

"You little brat!" Saul roars, standing up. The chair he's sitting on flies backwards, into the wall. A little purple warning pops up for the wall, saying 'Immortal Object'. "I'll kick the crap outta you!"

"Oh, really? I can take you easily!" Azaj jumps onto the table, drawing his dagger. Saul draws his greatsword, charging at Azaj. Comically, and despite his earlier threat, Azaj lets out a cry and scrambles out of the way of Saul's greatsword as it splits the table. At that moment Saul stands out of his chair, shouting in surprise. I jump back too, appalled by the sudden attack.

"ENOUGH!" Sebastian yells, and everyone stops. "I'm making an executive decision here, and I'm not gonna hear any complaining out of ANYBODY, okay?" He stares around the room, his eyes lingering on Saul. "Saul will get the ring. To be fair, he is slow as hell in a fight. We're selling the dagger, since that can get all of us new equipment. Finally, the coat goes to Cyril." He pressed a few buttons on his menu, and the loot is distributed. The dagger goes to Azaj. John rolled his eyes, muttering about not getting what he wanted.

"Azaj, I know you've got a friend of a friend or something that's a merchant. Go sell that dagger." Sebastian says. Azaj nods, looking down. I can tell he feels foolish for his earlier outbursts. I wonder how much the alcohol has affected all of us, but then I realize I feel virtually nothing of a buzz, and we haven't been slurring our speech. The simulated alcohol must run through our system faster than the real thing. Azaj had drunk heavily and weighed very little, yet he's already mostly sober.

"Alright, now everyone make sure you get some rest after the New Year's celebrations instead of partying all night long." Sebastian states, heading to the door to let us out. "We've got a lot to do tomorrow. Oh, and Cyril!" I turn towards him. "I want to ask something specific of you tomorrow." I nod. Saul grumbles something before rushing out. John leaves silently. Azaj jabbers on about something while I head to my room.

Even with the fighting, it's good to belong somewhere.

o

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

I figure it's sometime after midnight when I wake. I sit up, brushing aside the top of my bedroll. Eri sits near the fire in the middle of the clearing, poking at it with a stick in an attempt to revitalize it. I can see the vague shimmer of purple somewhere past her where a border of Eri's stealth field lay.

Eri has surprisingly high Stealth levels, as I learned when we were being pursued by Armand and his cronies. It's probably the only reason we managed to escape, as Thomas's Detect skill is too low to get past her. Her Dexterity is also on par with mine; she could easily keep up when I started sprinting.

"Oh, you're awake?" Eri turns to me, a soft smile on her face. "You were tossing and turning a lot in your sleep. Were you having a nightmare? Or was it simply because you're in the presence of your friend's murderer?"

"It was a nightmare." I say, recalling the dark thing. "I dreamed I was in a burning village, utterly alone despite the people rushing past me in terror. And despite the fact that villages are safe zones, I see men in black cloaks killing any who cross their paths."

"We're not in a safe zone, you know. Killing you in your sleep wouldn't be hard." She had a sad look in her eyes.

"You saved my life," I state, shifting my weight into a more comfortable position, "There's no reason to distrust you after that. I doubt you'd hurt me."

"That's pretty pragmatic." She crosses her legs, staring into the fire. When she blinks, a tear crosses her cheek. "I... That woman... She was the first person I've... killed. I didn't even think about it. I just saw her attacking you and... I just did it. And she was your friend! How... how can you trust a murderer?"

"Murderer? You're not a murderer." This situation feels familiar. I stand, thinking that I would sit by her, but stop myself. "It's true, Steffana was my friend, but she attacked me. Her arms were behind her back, but unbound, as if she had been planning to take me by surprise. Thomas had received some order from the bandit leader, and then led my clan leader to the clearing at just the right time. That entire situation was some sort of ambush. A clever one, really."

"You act like her death meant nothing to you." Eri looks over at me. I can see how hurt she is. "I thought she was your friend. You hired me to find her, yet now that she's dead, you hardly even care."

"No, that's-" I stop myself, taken aback by her statement. During and shortly after the shit hit the fan, I definitely did feel hurt, confused. Angry, even. Now? Steffana wanted revenge on me, and now that I'm thinking more soberly, I suppose I can figure out why, considering the April Incident. Even so, why would she go through such elaborate measures? Why not just kill me in my sleep? She had plenty of opportunities. "I guess... I'm used to death in this game." I pause, unsure how to continue without telling Eri too much or too little. "I do feel hurt by her death," Can I still be hurt by such things? "I guess I'm just still in shock." A logical possibility.

A friend of mine lies dead, and all I can think about is why she wanted to kill me. I knew something had happened to my humanity along the way, but I didn't think it was so bad that I would lose my composure over the deaths of two strangers. Did I not have enough of a care left for Steffana?

"I... killed someone." Eri put her head in her hands, sobbing quietly to herself. Part of me felt like going to her, comforting her, but I don't. I just stand there for a while, silent, before slipping back into my bedroll.

I sleep for an hour, waking when we switch watches. Eri is silent as she crawls into her bedroll, curling herself up tightly. I stare out into the forest, uncomfortable. The stealth field should protect us from monsters and players hunting us, but I know I have to keep a close watch regardless.

And as I lay there, as much at attention as I can be, I can't help but notice Eri can't sleep.

I don't think anyone can, the night after their first murder.

I couldn't.

o

By the time the sun starts to rise, visible through the massive, open-air side panels of the floor, I can feel how tired I am. I look over at Eri, who lay immobile. I can't tell if she's asleep or not – throughout the night she alternated between being awake or fitfully resting – and my eyes stray over the orange cursor above her.

Thief, or murderer. The orange symbol is a troublesome and inexact symbol. Eventually, it would fade back into green, but it would take a few days, at the very least, for a smaller crime. A murder can be much longer. Also, going into towns would be extremely problematic, as the NPC guards would attempt to drag Eri to jail.

Jail. Admittedly, that might be the easiest option. It's a relatively safe zone, located below the Black Iron Castle on the first floor, and managed by the Army – a large collection of players that claim responsibility for protecting the masses. They act as a sort of policing force of the game, and can be considered the closest thing to a government. Technically speaking, the Army (officially known as the Aincrad Liberation Force) is the largest clan in the game, boasting at least 3,000 members, though most are low- to middle-level players that needed protection or money.

In the beginning of this nightmare, I had considered joining the Army. Its leader, Sinker, had succeeded in organizing the distraught people unable to successfully play the game, who struggled to exist in the first town, too fearful to leave. I have to admit, the way he did it is clever, too. Each member of the Army is issued food and is continually fed so long as the person remains loyal to the organization. Many of the players paralyzed by fear are unable to buy food, as they can't earn any money, leading them to get incredibly powerful hunger pains. Hunger can't kill in this game, as in-game sustenance didn't truly feed us, but hunger pains were a terribly powerful thing. People joined the Army out of desperation, and thus the organization was born.

However, while Sinker originally vowed to free the 10,000 from the tyranny of the game, after the 25th floor and the April Incident, he gave up, instead focusing more on police action. Consequently, the lowest floors are incredibly safe from orange players. The middle-level floors have usually been the most preyed upon by PKers.

Of course, sending Eri to prison can also be a very poor choice. There are many nasty rumors abound of what the Army does to captured orange players – both out in the field and in the prisons. Pain, while non-existent in combat, can be simulated in other ways, and there are worse things than being injured in this game. There's also no guarantee that Eri would be released when she became green again. Judgment's Arm is an influential clan. If Armand wants the Army to lock Eri up indefinitely, or even kill her, it is not outside of his power to do so.

I sigh, laying down on my back, gazing up at the artificial sky. A few feet to my right, the fire emits its dying crackle. Suddenly wracked with curiosity, I open my system menu and navigate to my profile tab. I tap it once, and my personal information appears. I scroll down to the "Organizations" section, and let the breath I had been holding go.

_Clan: N/A_

Sometime during the night, I was kicked out of Judgment's Arm. All those months of working with Armand and Steffana were done away with. I almost feel sad just from that thought. I sit up, rubbing my eyes before staring hard at the ground.

"Good morning." Eri sits up in her bed roll, looking at me sleepily. She had slept in her armor, which is padded leather with odd insignias on the breast and shoulder. Her hair is matted on one side from her bed roll.

_She's cute. _I think suddenly, surprising myself, but quickly push the thought away. SAO isn't some romance game. I had no time for that anymore, not since... I look away, towards the ground again, distancing myself from the thought.

"You finally feeling sad about Steffana?" Eri asks. She's concerned, her head slightly tilted. I can't help but notice that her face is still puffy from crying, her eyes still slightly red.

_No, I'm not. _"I suppose so," I force myself to say. She smiles slightly and stands, walking over to me. Unexpectedly, she sits next to me, cuddling up against my left side, locking her arms around my left bicep. "Well, you're awfully forward," I joke. _And more willing to do what I couldn't._

"Shut up, it's supposed to be comforting." She pouts, then leans her head on my shoulder. I look down at her and I can see she's tearing up again. "I... I never thought I'd ever kill someone. I didn't mean to do it at the time. I was just trying to help you. I... didn't realize one hit would kill her."

I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close as she begins to cry into my chest. She's warm, which is one of the most odd sensations I can describe. Virtual warmth. We are probably thousands of miles apart right now in real life, yet here she is in my arms.

And as she keeps crying, I can't help but wonder about the irony of this situation. My friend lies dead and her killer is being comforted by me, yet I can't even shed a tear for Steffana.

I suppose something has to be resolved first. I need to confirm why Steffana hated me. I had to dig around in the past.

In the April Incident.

o

Eventually, Eri and I agree on the strategy. We'd have to go down a few floors to get away from the front lines, then camp out in some innocuous corner of Aincrad. The 39th floor is too dangerous to stay in for now.

"I have a merchant friend on the 30th floor that may be able to stash me somewhere until I turn green." Eri states. "And... you don't have to come with. You're still green. You can go wherever you want."

"No, this is my responsibility now." I say, smiling at her. "I'm not just gonna leave you alone. I have to help you."

A hint of a blush crosses her cheeks, and she smiles. "A girl can get used to that." She turns serious. "It'll take about two days to get to the 30th floor without teleporting if we go straight down through the tower dungeon, though it'll also be dangerous, what with the monsters and the soldiers. There's also no way to know if the boss has been cleared. We might be walking into an entire platoon of enemies."

"In any case, we know the general direction we're going." I smirk. "So let's get to it."

"Rightio, captain." Eri grins at me, pointing towards the tower dungeon in the distance. "Here's hoping we don't die!"

"Lovely."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I think this is the shortest chapter so far. Sorry for the lack of action. By the way, the italicized segments follow a character that is_ not _Cyril, just so you know.

Anywho, I wanna thank my only two reviewers so far, Yopkyu and Frostymouse, for reviewing. It's basically what keeps me writing. So, on that note, if you've got something to say about my story, say it! I can take criticism. In fact, I like criticism more than just "Hey good job!" So please, let 'er rip! I wanna hear what you think! And thanks for reading my story!

**Edit:** It's come to my attention that when I uploaded my files, some of the spaces between words, in particular what's in italics and bold, are removed. I got out as many as I could find, but let me know if you see any more in the future. They are not intentional.

**Edit 2: **Corrected this chapter and reorganized it a bit.


	4. Orange

******January 8, 2023 – 8********th******** Floor – 95 Days before the April Incident:**

"It seems clearing floors is becoming faster." I nudge Sebastian as we ascend the dungeon stairs. As light finally meets my eyes, I smile. Floor 8. Around us, various players pour out of the opening, having participating in the boss fight along with us. My smile disappears for a second as members from the Holy Dragon Alliance pass by. They lost a member during the fight. Once they're gone, I keep celebrating.

___Only 92 more floors!_

It's hard to be optimistic about that, but I try.

"And the Vanguard conquers another floor!" Azaj smiles, looking around. "So this is Friben. It's simple, but really cool!" I gotta admit, the 12-year-old is excited by everything, even simple architecture. I laugh when he points to the lone tower standing in the middle of the town. Despite its thinness, it reaches far into the air. "I wonder what's up there?" Azaj mirrors my own thoughts.

"There's so much to explore," Sebastian says, walking ahead, towards where the teleport pad lay in its traditional spot: the center of the main plaza. Behind us, people from the raid party are still climbing the stairs into town. In a few days, the stairs will relocate to the bottom of this floor's dungeon and the main form of transportation into the town will be the teleport pad. Just as I start to look at it, it sparks into life, a blue electrical shine enveloping the pad. Two shapes begin to appear, silhouettes of people unknown. One is a fairly muscular person in heavy metal armor, and the other is fairly diminutive, in robes. As they materialize, Saul starts to chuckle, pointing while poking John. John, too, starts laughing when he sees the larger person.

What greets my eyes is a most unusual sight. The heavily armored figure that steps out of the teleport is an incredibly muscular person, easily 6' 2'', with a strong, square jaw and a buzzcut. Under the massive heavy armor I can easily see bulging muscles, far more so than I've seen on any other person. At the hip, a one-handed mace that looks more suited to be two-handed is strapped. She also carries a cruel-looking spear in her right hand and a greatsword on her back.

Yes, she.

To describe her as butch is an understatement, and understandably so. She can probably snap me like a twig. As such, soon the entire courtyard is looking at her, with the rumor-prone population of SAO already whispering.

"What, is that all you people do? Gossip?" The smaller figure beside her, a bespectacled man, speaks, his voice clear and crisp in the air, authoritative in nature. "Begone, fools." He waves them off. It's mostly effective, and many people turn towards more pressing tasks. Even so, a few still remain, quietly tormenting the woman.

After a short while I recognize the woman's armor. I can only see her back now, her heavy armor rattling as she heads towards the gate. Two floors or so down, she soloed the boss after the rest of us were unexpectedly defeated. She's a monster of a fighter, though she keeps her demon-horn helmet on at all times. I hadn't realized she was female.

"Azaj, she's the Demon!" It's a nickname people began to give the mystery fighter. I look down at the kid, but find him staring grimly at the back of the woman, a hard look in his eyes. "Azaj? You okay?"

"Eh? What?" Azaj snaps out of it, blinking up at me. "Sorry, just zoning out. Hey, let's check out this building over here!" He suddenly grabs my arm, dragging me across the courtyard in the exact opposite direction of the Demon. I go along with him, but I can't help but notice him glancing backwards every few seconds.

o

About a week ago, the morning after I received my new coat armor, Sebastian had approached me to ask if I should make a clan. He'd be the leader, with me, Saul and John as vice-commanders. When I asked about Azaj, he chuckled.

"Azaj is a good kid, and a great fighter, but he's a bit young for the leadership role." Sebastian said. "As a clan, we're still lacking in some ways. We need better armor, for example. It doesn't matter how strong you are, as any unarmored person can be taken down with a single stab. However, I think we're ready. I had been thinking about a few names, and I'd like to know your opinion."

He said a few, and I tossed a few back. Eventually we decided on Vanguard, due to Sebastian's insistence that we catch-up to and support the front line. A week later, here we are, the first five members of the Vanguard clan.

"I still think 'Fantastic Five' is better," Azaj complains when we sit down at an inn to eat our dinner that night. "It's so much cooler than 'Vanguard'. But nobody around here listens to my opinion!"

"Oh, shut it, kid." Saul smirks, grabbing some of Azaj's bread, who protests mightily, scrambling over the table to get it back. I roll my eyes. After a while, the conversation dies down again, and Sebastian speaks, this time more seriously.

"I've already talked to some of the other clan leaders, as they've already set up a base here on the eighth floor." Sebastian says, looking around. "They've formed a sort of coalition together, and they've collectively decided we'd be useful as a scouting and mapping clan."

"Yeah, only because they're afraid to lose their own men to that." Saul sneers. "This all sounds like a good way to get us all killed."

"It sounds like a good way to get ahead in this game." Sebastian shoots back, before turning to the rest of us. "I feel better on the front lines, like I'm working to accomplish something, rather than wasting away on the lower levels. We'd be wading into danger, sure, but we'd also be helping secure the futures of 8,000 people!"

Azaj cheers at that. I smile, impressed by this man's enthusiasm. Somehow, I find myself reminded of his story about killing the player who ambushed him. It has to take a remarkable amount of willpower to be forced into that situation and survive, let alone thrive, afterward. Sebastian always looks forward, despite what happens.

"Our first mission starts tomorrow, Vanguard," Sebastian looks proud. "We're going to be mapping the dungeon. This isn't a task that will take some short amount of time, either. We'll be at it for a week, five days at the least, probably, to find the boss room. This is a good chance to level up and get better at this game while the floors are still low. As we get further up, our missions will only get more and more dangerous."

"STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!" We all turn in the direction of the mechanical voice, confused by the sudden racket. Out the window I see a cloaked figure in black sprinting down the road, clutching something. The person is illuminated by the soft glow of the orange street lights, casting an interesting shadow behind her. Several NPC guards are giving chase, shouting at the top of their virtual lungs. I can't help but remark upon their limited vocabulary. Is it an intentional design? Just then, I notice what's off about the situation. The person's cursor is orange.

It's the first time I've seen an orange player.

We all get up quickly, rushing to see what happens next. "Isn't thieving in towns impossible?" Azaj says, bouncing as he tries to see over the people gathering around. I can see clearly, though. The cloaked figure is heading straight to the center of the plaza, where the raised teleport platform lay.

"Thieving skills are impossible in towns," Sebastian quickly explains. "Picking up another person's item and running isn't, though."

The cloaked figure stops on the raised dais, looking about. Someone shouts as a spear thrown by a guard arcs through the air towards the thief, who turns quickly. The spear catches the black coat, tearing it off. The crowd that's gathered stares in shock as the thief's face is revealed. A pretty young girl with shocking red hair and bright green eyes looks out over the crowd, appearing unexpectedly regal. What's more surprising is when she starts to speak.

"People of Aincrad, cast off your chains!" She shouts, her voice ringing out throughout the clearing. "Salvation is within your grasp, but you must be willing to disregard your fears! You must be willing to ascend! Join us, where the dawn lies bare before your wayward souls! Join us, in the fires of retribution!"

Immediately after, the blue fire of the teleporter covers her. The NPC guards are almost to the platform, shouting at her, but they're too late. As soon as they reach her, she's gone, disappearing to another floor, along with whatever item it is that she stole.

"Idiot girl," Sebastian scoffs. "She's just going to wind up in the middle of another town."

"That was dangerous!" Azaj remarks, looking at the guards, who are already returning to their posts. "Aren't guards like level 30 or 40 or something like that?"

"45, actually." Sebastian says, staring at the spear stuck in the ground, with the thief's cloak still billowing around it. He starts walking towards it, the rest of us following. He bends over, examining the item before removing the cloak from the spear. I notice he does it carefully, trying not to touch the spear, which would be registered as stolen. For some reason, the cloak is not.

"Wow. 45. One of those will destroy us in a fight, then." Azaj remarks. In my head I agree. I'm only level 13. A fight with a guard would be laughably one-sided. "We should fight one!"

"Another time, Azaj." Sebastian rifles through the coat, searching for pockets of any kind. I see in his item menu the item is labeled 'Resurrectionist's Cloak' "It's a player-made item. Decent stats. It's also custom named. This all seems so... odd. What the hell was that girl talking about?"

"What does it matter?" Saul states, obviously displeased with the entire spectacle. "So a crazy girl runs through and shouts stuff. Big whoop. I wanna get some sleep."

Saul slogs off, John following close behind. Azaj mutters something too, saying goodnight, and leaves as well. I can't help but be surprised by their lack of interest.

"I've seen this kind of thing before," Sebastian says, pushing a lock of black hair out of his eyes. "The 'Resurrectionists'... I thought are just a rumor. I thought it is all a bit too extreme, the stuff of tavern gossip. But this..."

"What is it?"

"I'm unsure, but it can't be good."

o

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

"So what's your story?" We've been walking for a little while now, watching the distant tower grow nearer in the afternoon sun. I'm surprised by the question. "I know it's rude to ask about the real world, but I figure that since we're probably gonna be around each other for a while, why not get to know each other more?" I'm about to speak, but she quickly adds, "But it's okay if you don't wanna talk about the real world. That's totally cool. I mean, you can also talk about what you've done in the game so far! How'd you get to this point? You know, stuff like that."

Slightly amused by her rambling, I answer, "In the real world, I was in college. I wanted to be a doctor. Maybe I still will. You know, it was for the classical reasons. I wanted to save lives. Help people. Stuff like that."

We emerge out of the forest into a great grassy plain. East of here is the arid plateau, as well as the town. North lay the tower. All around us, for a great distance, we can see the landscape. I see a few monsters lolling about a ways away from us, but they aren't of any real threat. Our goal is the tower dungeon, which is surrounded by forest at its base.

"That's pretty cool. I wish I had the dedication to be a doctor." She exhales, looking back up at the sky. I glance over at her, and her expression changes. "I... uh... I was a beta tester."

I suppose she expected a negative reaction from me. "So?" I say simply, and her face widens in shock.

"You don't care?" She grabs the sleeve of my coat, staring at me in an expectation that seems so easily shattered. "You seriously don't care that I'm a beta tester?"

"I never really understood the huge public backlash against beta testers. So they had a big advantage on the first eight floors because they played through it before. Big whoop." I smirk. "A lot of that information turned out to be incorrect, too. Ever hear the rumor about Diabel and the Beater?"

"No, I don't think I have."

"Well, apparently on the first floor boss, two beta testers fought the thing. One died because he thought that the monster had a different weapon than he actually did." To this day I regret not taking part in that first battle. I was so paralyzed with fear of the game that I couldn't do it. I don't tell Eri that. "The other one turn out to be the Black Swordsman himself. You know, I've met the guy."

"Really?" Eri cocks her head to the side. "I heard he's some ridiculously handsome young player with a midnight coat and a longsword made of shadows. Apparently he's so good at the game he doesn't need to play with a shield. Monsters can hardly touch him, let alone kill him."

"He's obsessed with clearing the tower," I say, thinking back to that moment when I first saw him, when he threatened to kill me. "Probably more so than anyone else in the game."

"I wish I can meet him," She giggles. "He sounds so mysterious. A girl will love a guy like that. I'd be all over him."

I laugh. "Well, you lost your chance. Rumor also has it that he's involved with Asuna the Flash." Her face comes to mind and I subconsciously shiver. The woman has always been cold to me, ever since–

"Famous people, I swear to god. You know, I keep hearing about some mysterious, deadly archer too, called the Reaper." She arcs an eyebrow while looking at me. "They say he drags the youngest players out of their beds at night and hunts them down for sport." She snickers. "You wouldn't know anything about that, will you?"

"The people of Sword Art Online are suspicious gossips." I scoff, feigning offense, but in truth, I can't help but feel my gut twist. The rumor has more truth to it than I like to admit. "Everyone's talking about people killing other people."

"Hey, Cyril, sorry if this is too personal, but have you killed anyone?" The question came like a shot in the dark, catching me completely off-guard. "I mean, aside from those two bandits."

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. For a while, I say nothing, and I think Eri understands what that meant. She apologizes quickly.

"I guess I just don't want to feel like I'm the only one, you know? It's been bugging me all day." Eri chuckles awkwardly to herself. "I... uh... I guess I'll drop it." Somewhere deep inside, I can't help but feel like she deserves some sort of answer, yet I really don't feel like dragging my problems into her lap, so I keep it short.

"Eri, you ever hear about the April Incident?" I say, quieter than before. Eri's eyes grow wide, her expression shocked.

"Hear about it? Holy crap, that was the biggest story to hit SAO apart from the beginning." Eri seemed dumbfounded. "I mean, everybody was talking about it. Nobody knew how to react. It had all happened so suddenly. I had thought it is some joke, some huge prank."

"No, it wasn't a joke. It all really happened." I grit my teeth, thinking back to that horrible day. April 13. 140 days ago exactly. "I is at the heart of it all, when things got bad. I didn't have a choice not to be involved, I guess."

"I... I guess that answers my question." She says quickly, "You probably didn't have much choice about killing those people, right?"

"Right," I say, hardly convincing myself.

We walk in silence a long way.

o

We stop at the base of the dungeon tower, feeling a bit lucky. No people sighted so far, and only a few monsters crossed our paths, which we had quickly dispatched. Eri's orange cursor still hangs over her, cursing us, forcing us onward. The emptiness of the place lends me towards the thought that the boss was cleared and floor 40 uncovered. Usually the uncovering of every tenth floor causes some sort of large party, as it symbolizes the 10,000, collectively, are a tenth closer to freedom. They're called Tenth parties and usually last a long while.

That'll work in our favor as many, if not all, of the clearers will be on floor 40 celebrating wildly. Ironically, the duties of clearing will be forgotten to celebrate how far they've come. Of course, the next day they will have to get right back to work.

I remember the last clearing party I had attended, back on the 20th floor. I had been with the Vanguard, then. Thinking about it made my stomach lurch, so I push it away, focusing on the substantial task ahead.

There is only ever one entrance on each floor to the tower dungeon. It's usually large and foreboding, creepy, with occasional guardian monsters. As me and Eri creep around the tower towards the entrance, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise. I gulp, and Eri follows suit.

As we near the entrance, I notice we aren't alone. Quietly, Eri puts down a small stealth field around us, and we sneak forward. At the edge of the pathway, a bush, hides us from view as we spy on our surroundings. I clench my teeth in rage as I see the four people there.

The first three people are predictable enough, I guess. They're the three remaining bandits. One had ran off, the other I had shot twice with arrows, narrowly surviving, and then the leader. The fourth one is the one that pissed me off the most.

_Thomas._

The 14-year-old nonchalantly leans against a tree, examining a fancy, shiny sword. I knew then that there is no way I would try to sneak past them. I need answers, and I need them now. Quickly, I try to stand, but Eri grabs me, her expression telling me to wait, so wait I do. Eventually, I see why. Thomas seems impatient about something, and finally speaks up.

"What the hell is going on, Seraphim? Was PoH's information incorrect?" Thomas scowls, stepping off the tree. "I thought you and your clan-mates were supposed to be good at your job. If you are, then where the hell are they?"

"The boy should not complain." The leader – Seraphim, I guess – turns to him and replies, "The boy should watch, and listen, and enjoy the hunt. You are an innocent yet. Your blood has not yet been tainted with initiation."

"I'm no innocent!" Thomas growls. "Damn it, it was my plan that allowed us to ensnare Cyril in the first place! I should already have proven my worth enough to join you guys!"

So that's it, then. I think I can figure out the pieces from there. Thomas wanted to join a band of murderers, so he sold out my location and motivations to this Seraphim fellow. Yet that still leaves Steffana's role uncertain. Why did she turn on me? Was she with the bandits? She had been unbound, but that might've been a ruse to throw off her captors if she tried to escape. Damn it! I can't yet figure it out.

"Take not the credit that does not belong, boy." Seraphim's tone is dark and hollow, but it's apparent he's chastising Thomas. "You played a role, nothing more. You think yourself above a pawn, but you are below."

"Hey! You bastard, I'll–"

"Shut up, god damn it!" One of the other bandits stands, walking to Thomas. He backs away, holding his sword futilely out in front of him as the man approaches. I see terror on his face. The man grabs the sword blade with his left hand, pulling Thomas forward and kneeing him in the stomach. The attack sends him sprawling and, surprisingly, his health lowers to about half.

"He must be a martial artist." Eri whispers to me, echoing my thoughts.

"You think you're some badass, trying to be a murderer?" The bandit yells, kicking Thomas in the side. The boy coughs, his face contorted. "Well, tough shit, kid, because there's a hard truth you gotta learn as a PKer." He grabs Thomas' short hair, lifting his head up. "You're gonna die, eventually. Maybe it'll be a knife in the dark from a clan 'friend', or maybe a town guard feels like slicing you up. Maybe even some punk-ass will be out for revenge for a friend's death. We live on the edge of a sword, and we die by it too. Are you ready for that?" He wraps his hands around Thomas' neck, who thrashes about, crying out weakly. "Well!? Are ya!?"

Just as I'm about to jump out and intervene, Seraphim calls for the bandit to stop. His hands go up in the air, his eyes looking somewhere above me and Eri, steadily moving lower.

"Laughing Man, I have reason to suspect there exists an observer." Seraphim and the Laughing Man? What is this, a fucking circus? I feel Eri tense up next to me, her arm wrapping around mine as Seraphim's arm and eyes draw lower... lower...

And then swing around to his left. We hear it a moment later, the pounding of horse's hooves. Two horses, it sounds like. They thunder steadily closer, and I watch the road for people fast approaching, both green players.

When they finally arrive, there are two faces. One I can't recognize, but the other... I see a smirking man I hoped never to come across again, who comes sharply to a stop and dismounts his horse with a flourish, dropping to the ground confidently.

He approaches Seraphim and holds out his hand, which the bandit does not accept. "Friendly as usual, eh? How's that stick up your ass doing?"

Seraphim does not respond.

"You got what we want?" The familiar face looks over at Thomas and smiles. "So that's the new brat, eh? Didn't realize you assholes took kids."

Saul.

Motherfucking Saul.

I feel the rage of a dead friend's soul burning up within me when I stare at that face again. I feel my fingers itch, wishing for the bow, for the dagger, for the chance to bury something sharp in the man's skull.

"Everything is in order, friend," Seraphim smiles softly.

"Why choose this space in the first place? It's way too out in the open than I'm comfortable with." Saul looks around, at the forest and the dungeon. "I know most everybody is up on the fortieth floor celebrating and all, but damn is this place conspicuous."

"Oh, no particular reason." Seraphim smiles, staring into the bush where we're hiding. Right into my eyes. Eri smothers a gasp. "No reason at all."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And here's the fourth chapter! Just in case you haven't noticed, I added "95 Days before the April Incident" and "141 Days after the April Incident" to the dates here, and have decided to retroactively apply them to the previous dates. As always, please review, and please let me know if you see any formatting errors! Thank you!

**Edit: **Cleaned up this chapter as an ongoing attempt to fix this entire story of all tense and grammatical errors.


	5. Investigation

_"I'm starting to get worried, hun," I can hear them talking about me again. They never know I'm listening. These false parents, they can never tell I'm always there, always watching. "All he does is stay in his room all day. He doesn't have any friends, he doesn't try hard in school, I can't-"_

_ "You have to be patient, Carol," The man usually supports me, but he's usually wrong about me. "He's probably still depressed. Both of his parents died in that fire. Can you imagine what he's going through?"_

_ "But... the cat? How is it that you don't believe me?" She's distressed, and rightfully so. "Why is the cat gone? He disappeared right after that damned boy got into this house!"_

_ "The cat ran away!" The man is getting agitated too. I can tell what he's thinking. '_Why is my wife so paranoid?'_ I have to stop myself from laughing. "You can't keep blaming that on the boy. Why would he kill our cat? He's only a freshman in high-school! You're delusional!"_

_ "I am not-" She stops herself, calming herself down forcibly. "Even so, you shouldn't have gotten Christian that Nerve-gear. He spends more time on that thing than awake. And next week, that new game he's been wanting is coming out. How do we know he's ever going to get off of it?"_

_ I smile. I don't plan on getting off of, foolish woman, but then the false-father says something I haven't anticipated. "If it gets too bad, I'll simply take the Nerve-gear away. I'll teach him moderation, Carol. Don't worry about that. We're parents now. It's our job to teach."_

_ Parents? The word enrages me, but not as much as his scheming. The Nerve-gear is mine! MINE! The virtual worlds are mine! I will not let him take them away from me!_

_ Sword Art Online will be released next week. I need a plan to get rid of them so that I can live in that world without issue. I will become one with that virtual reality, and I will never let it go. No, these false-parents will not take that away from me._

_ I'll get rid of them first, just like the last two._

o

** January 24, 2023 – 10th Floor – 79 Days before the April Incident:**

"Oh my god, that was AMAZING!" Azaj yells, spinning around and around. "And the fire-breathers? Did you see the fire-breathers? They. Were. AWESOME! I mean, where did the fire come from? How didn't they get burned? I wanna learn how to do that. Can I learn how to do that? Can I? Can I? Pleeeeeeease?"

"Another time, Azaj." Sebastian says curtly, walking ahead of me and the boy. It's the day after the ninth floor was cleared, and the remains of the first "official" Tenth party are being cleaned up by the automated NPCs. I wonder if the tradition will continue for every tenth floor.

"Jeez, what's eating you?" Azaj mutters, looking away. "All I wanted to do is breath fire. Can't a boy breathe some fire?"

"Sebastian?" I walks up next to him, wondering what he's so preoccupied about. He's absentmindedly stroking the wisp of stubble on his face. For a second, he looks much older than his eighteen years. "Sebastian, what's wrong? You seem troubled."

"It's those damned Resurrectionists. I can't seem to get it out of my head." He opens his system menu and materializes the black cloak. With a shimmer it appears in his hands. "Every night, I find myself staring at it, feeling the black cloth over and over again. I... can't figure this out. I even went and got the cloak appraised. Didn't help anything though. It was made by some nobody in the Army."

"It's nothing, Sebastian. She's just a thief." I can't help but feel concern. Sebastian seemed... different ever since that red-haired girl appeared.

"It's not just that." Sebastian turns to me, the black cloak wrapped tight in his hands. "The red-head. When the spear ripped her cloak off, I didn't recognize her at first. I've been thinking about it, though. She looks just like someone I knew once."

"Who?"

"My sister." I recoil in shock, an eyebrow arcing up. "I know, I know. How can I not recognize my own sister, right?" We stop at the plaza, Azaj pointing at an inn across the way, shouting and racing towards it. "Here, I'll explain everything over a meal."

We walk over to the inn; Azaj has already disappeared. We pick a table and sit while a preprogrammed NPC takes our orders. As soon as the disturbingly human-like NPC waiter walks off, Sebastian takes a deep breath and starts to explain.

"My sister and I were separated when we were young. I think I was 10 at the time. She was 9. See, our parents got divorced, and they decided to each keep one kid." Sebastian mulls his next words over as the NPC returns with hot tea for the both of us. He sips it cautiously before continuing. "It wasn't an ideal situation. Don't ask me why they decided to work the divorce that way. I saw my sister maybe once a year. But what really threw me off was her hair. In real life she had black hair, but those bright green eyes are the same."

"She could just be a look-alike." I postulate. Sebastian shakes his head.

"I know I don't have much proof yet, but I'm sure of this." Sebastian nods at the NPC when she brings our food. It's simple fare. "After my thirteenth birthday, my mother disappeared, along with my sister. For a while the police were involved, but they were never found. For these last five years, I had thought them dead or worse. This could be my chance to get my sister back!"

"I see. Were you and your sister close?"

"No, we weren't, actually." He seems upset by this, so I don't press him, yet he continues anyway. "She'd be 17 now. Damn it, I have to find her! I need to know who the Resurrectionists truly are!"

"What do you know?" I ask, "You mentioned knowing a few rumors. What have you heard about them?"

"The Resurrectionists that I know of are a PK clan," Sebastian says slowly. My eyes widen.

"Those exist?"

"Yeah, they do. They're sick people, and there are a couple of small ones here and there, but the Resurrectionists have some mythic reputation. I've heard such wild things as eating players, or kidnapping non-player girls from the first floor and..." Sebastian can't continue. "I won't believe my sister is involved in such things. I have to know more! If she truly is in a PK clan, then... I need to help her. The problem is, I don't know where to go from here. I don't have any leads. Only my sister's name."

"What about the item she stole?" I ask, thinking back. I can't recall what item it is, if I even knew at all. "If we can track down the robbery victim, maybe we'll find your lead?"

"It's not going to be easy."

"Then we'd better get started."

o

**January 31, 2023 – 10th Floor – 72 Days before the April Incident:**

"Maaaaan, why can't we just give up? We're never going to find the guy." Azaj complains for the hundredth time. I shush him yet again, but I can sympathize. A week without any leads. Our search for the victim of Sebastian's supposed sister seems in vain. Night is falling quickly; I can't help but feel exhausted. After a week of us accomplishing nothing, the front line had even moved up a floor.

"What the fuck are we wasting our time on this for?" Saul swears, kicking some plants growing through the cracks of the cobbling streets. "How many missions have we given up searching for a god-damn ghost? We could all be a level higher by now!"

"To be fair, finding a family member may be worth more than an extra level." John says in his usual quiet, monotone voice. "If she is really who Sebastian thinks, it'd put our leader's mind at ease."

"Like you can talk, lazy ass." Saul growls at John. "All you've been doing is running around on lower floors while we do all the real searching!"

"It's alright, John." Sebastian holds up a hand, shushing him. "I can handle Saul myself." He turns to the eternally bitter member of our clan. Saul's tired, I think. His brown hair, usually well kept, is matted and frayed. Large bags show under his eyes, and the usually shining blue eyes of his are dull and empty. Briefly I wonder if facial features such as those are updated by the Nerve-gear from real life, or if they're an in-game result of certain actions, like not getting enough sleep.

"Handle me? What the fuck is there to handle?" Saul growls. He walks towards Sebastian, getting right in his face. "Ever since day one you've been bossing us around. I don't remember ever electing you as my fucking dictator."

"To be fair, dictators aren't always elected." John smirks, folding his arms. I can't help but chuckle. John is a somber person, so his jokes are few and far between.

"Funny fucker, aren't ya?" Saul shot at him, staring right into his eyes. John doesn't look away. After a little while, Saul turns back to Sebastian.

"I became the leader out of necessity, Saul." Sebastian says slowly. I can tell he's choosing his words carefully. Lately Saul has become more and more of a loose cannon, getting angry and ignoring his clan duties more and more easily. Plus, it's always felt like he's got a stick up his ass. "No, there was no election, but I'm confident that if we did put the matter to a vote, I would still be in this position."

Azaj and John nods, as do I. Looking around at us, Saul swears as he backs away. "Whatever. You guys can search for the bitch, but I'm having no part of it." He takes off towards the middle of the town. Sebastian stares after him silently. After a little while he sighs, resignedly walking to the nearest inn. We all follow.

Inside, things are fairly rowdy. As soon as we enter the place, I can't help but notice the large amount of people drinking, shouting, singing, or otherwise making asses of themselves. We sit down at one of the few empty tables, and Azaj immediately jumps up to talk to the people celebrating. They look like Army men, who are getting more and more common on the front lines.

John is thinking the same thing. "Army soldiers are everywhere these days. Sinker must be getting bored on the Black Throne." The Black Throne is the name given to the throne of Black Iron Castle, where the leader of the Army, Sinker, resides. "Did either of you see Sinker's proclamation the other day?"

"No, I don't." I says, but Sebastian nods.

"Well," Paul starts, rubbing his chin. "Sinker's organization is growing more and more massive with every passing day. He's been working at organizing the non-players in Starting City, drawing them in with promises of pay and work that isn't very dangerous. The better players of them have been been appearing en masse on the front lines. It's rumored there's over a thousand people in the Army now. They're even issuing uniforms."

"But what's the announcement?" I ask, curious. Over John's shoulder I can see Azaj join in with drinking at a table full of Army men. He's telling them a story, probably one too fanciful to be believable.

"Oh, it is basically narcissistic ramblings, honestly," Sebastian rolls his eyes as he says it. "He wrote that he would be the one to lead us to salvation, that the Army would guide our souls back to the 'truth'. Something like that." Sebastian's facial expression starts to change as he says it. "That he would free them from their chains..."

"The exact words the red-headed girl had used," I confirm, nodding at Sebastian.

He quickly materializes his sister's cloak from his inventory. "And the man who appraised this cloak gave me the name of the man in charge making Army uniforms."

"We have our lead!" I smile, and so does he. A moment later, Azaj interrupts us, shouting from across the inn. "What is it, kid?" I call back. He's waving from one of the other tables, where a few rough-looking men are sitting around a table.

"I found the guy!" He calls back. Sebastian's jaw drops.

"What?" He asks, though I know it's just to make sure.

"I FOUND THE GUY!"

The look on Sebastian's face at that moment is hard to describe. It's relief, excitement and trepidation all rolled together in one expression. He stands quickly, rushing to Azaj. I follow, hoping it isn't a false lead.

"What did she steal?" Sebastian says immediately, not bothering with formalities. The man, Azaj is pointing at him, have equipment that isn't too spectacular or expensive. Neither does his acquaintances, the five of them, who are sitting around the table with him. However, I do notice that they're Army men. They're young, too, it looks like. Can't be more than 18 for the oldest of them, the youngest maybe 13. Then again, hardly anyone in this game is old.

"I... uh..." The man is taken aback, surprised by Sebastian's insistence. "She..."

Sebastian grabs him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him face-to-face. "Spit it out! What did the red-head take from you?" I lay a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, and he calms a bit, letting the man down slightly, but not all the way.

"It was a key." The man says sheepishly. "I was supposed to deliver it to the Army's Representative on the front lines, but she got to it first. I was stupid about it too. I got bored and materialized it to take a look at it. Next thing I knew, she snatched it from me and took off running."

"What door did the key open?" Sebastian presses "How important is this?"

"I don't know. I was never told." The man looks down. He seems so embarrassed about the whole thing. Briefly I wondered if this had been his first failed mission. "They said it was a personal favor. I was just the delivery boy!"

"If the key belonged to the Representative, why did he need it delivered to him?" I ask. The messenger thinks for a moment.

"It was... because the key got taken from the Representative somehow, then returned to the Army to give to him." The messenger says. I narrow my eyes at him, suspicious, but say nothing more.

"Thank you for the information." Sebastian says, nodding his head. He pivots on his heel, walking briskly away. I follow, curious.

"So what next? All our clues point in the same direction: The Army." As odd as that seems. They don't seem like a criminal organization. "We should head to the Black Iron Castle."

"No," Sebastian shakes his head. "First, we need to talk to the Representative and find out where the key led. As we are now, we'd be walking in blind." He pauses, collecting his thoughts. "I know the man. He's a fair and honest person. I'm sure we can get an answer out of him if we explain ourselves."

We're almost at our tables when the inn suddenly grows quiet. The ringing of message terminals grows louder, and when I look around, I notice that all the Army men in the inn are looking at their private message system. Then they all start talking in hushed tones, uncertain and shocked expressions everywhere.

"What? What is it? What happened?" Sebastian runs to the nearest Army soldier, asking. The man turns towards us, a bewildered look on his face.

"The Army Representative on the front lines... He's been murdered."

o

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

"Your leader is an odd one, Paul." Seraphim digs around in the pockets of his armor. "To request such an item of us is truly unusual." I take a moment to examine Seraphim's armor. It's different from the plain black leather armor of his two bandit associates. It has the same structure, pitch black leather and fingerless gloves, but he wears a white coat over his armor. It shines slightly, giving him an almost angelic appearance. Clearly displayed on the fingerless gloves is a symbol of a smiling coffin. I don't recognize it.

"It's Saul, not Paul." Saul opens his inventory and materializes a large amount of Col, which appeared as several bags of coin on the ground. "And organized PKers are the only ones who can create such an item nowadays. You bastards are really getting out of hand, huh?"

"Hypocrisy does not befit you, Paul."

Seraphim finally pulls out a palm-sized blood-red crystal from a pouch at his side, opening a trade menu. For a few moments they're silent as the trade is in progress. The bags of coins disappear, then reappear by Seraphim, while the blood-red crystal teleports into Saul's hand. He examins the crystal and, apparently satisfied, dematerializes it into his inventory. Seraphim does the same with the coins.

"It's a cursed thing," Seraphim says, "My heart soars to be rid of it. I do not wish to know what your leader is planning to use it for, as it is likely nothing holy."

"What would you know about holiness, Seraphim?" Saul smirks, "You've got the second-highest PK score in the game." Seraphim's expression is impassive.

"That means nothing," Seraphim says, not even flinching.

"There are lots of rumors out about you now, murderer. They've got lots of names for ya, better than the crappy one you put on yourself. The Angel of Death. The Mourning Star. Light-bringer." Saul folds his arms. "But I heard a better one not too long ago, one that I think is more fitting, though I'm not sure if it can be called a nickname. I was in a tavern, listening to some gossip while I killed time, and a red-head girl walks in with her head down." Briefly I see Seraphim's implacable expression shift, but it's gone a second later.

"_He's _the Mourning Star?" Eri whispers, and I can feel her tense up.

"A nickname better than the Light-bringer?" The Laughing Man cackles. "Hell, I'd like to hear that one!"

"She called you Brother," Saul gives an evil smile, "And then started crying." Seraphim's face contorts in anger and, baring his teeth, he dashes towards Saul nearly faster than I can follow, grabbing Saul by the cuff of his jacket. He doesn't even have time to draw his sword. For a few tense moments they stand there, the bandits with their hands on their weapons, and Saul's companion ready to attack if necessary.

"Give my regards to Christian, Paul." Seraphim says quietly, his face returning to normal just as suddenly. He drops Saul, who, shaken, walks back to his horse. "We will not be doing business again."

"Yeah, I never really liked you anyway." Saul says, probably not as strongly as he would have liked.

I grab my bow from my back and nock an arrow. I can't miss this chance. Eri looks at me, panic in her eyes as I draw the string back, aiming for Saul's head. He's green, but I certainly won't mind going orange for this chance. I take a breath, steadying my aim, and let fly, knowing my arrow would soar true into Saul's temple.

"NO!" Seraphim shouts, jumping forward, his arm extended. Saul turns in shock, staring at the arrow now sticking through Seraphim's hand

"Despite everything, you still-" Saul starts to say, but I cut him off.

"Damn it!" I curse, jumping up and drawing my daggers. I have one more chance, I think as I charge out of the stealth field towards Saul. To my side, I see the bandits beginning to react. Thomas, who is sitting against a tree, looks up, surprised. The Laughing Man and the other one are running towards me now as well. Seraphim retreats a step, looking blankly at the wound in his hand.

Saul is ready by the time I reach him, his greatsword drawn much faster than I remember him able. He slashes down at me, face twisted with confusion and surprise. As I deflecte his strike, stepping to the right and the letting his blade slide to the ground, I see a realization dawn on him as well.

"Cyril!?" I hear Thomas shout from off to the side.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Morality!" He laughs, slashing up and to the side, much faster than I expected. I grimace as it cuts into my side, my health depleting somewhat. "Haven't changed much, I see. You always did suck at fighting head to head."

I jump back, expecting the bandits to arrive by then. To my surprise, Seraphim has extended his arms, stopping them. Saul's companion climbs down from his horse, but otherwise remains uninterested in fighting me. Saul himself is smiling evilly, his greatsword pointed towards me, waiting.

"You here for revenge?" Saul laughs, a visceral and gritty sound. I notice he looks more tired now than he ever has, but his reflexes and speed are incredibly sharp. "That's awfully inconvenient. I was hoping to finally kill you in an appropriate setting. Somewhere like Floor 22."

"Any setting's appropriate for me, bastard." Vaguely I notice that Saul's cursor is orange, while mine is still green. He struck me first, after all. "You betrayed us, betrayed the Vanguard! And now you serve Christian? What kind of sick bastard would follow him? You saw what happened last time! What happened to the Vanguard!"

"Vanguard is gone, Cyril. They're old news." Saul thinks for a moment before lifting his blade. "But, you know, you were a talented player-killer when it mattered. The Resurrectionists live on. Christian can use someone like you, since we don't have any archers anymore."

"Fuck Christian, and fuck you, too." I spit. Saul just shrugs and raises his blade again. He charges, greatsword leading to impale. I roll under it, but I'm not quick enough. He switches the direction of the blade before I can stab at him, stepping to my left as he does so. I felt a sensation of cold numbness all across my mid section as I roll to a stop. He cut me clean through. My health falls into the red; I can see a warning message rattling off all the crippling status defects his attack gave me.

Not only that, but I'm now caught between Saul and Seraphim. To put my situation frankly, I'm screwed.

"Cyril!" _Damn it, no! _I think as Eri bursts out of the underbrush, running towards Saul. She slashes at him with her dagger, but he just laughs, rotating around her towards his horse. Soon enough, Eri is beside me, Saul and Seraphim in front, but the move doesn't help us much. With Saul and Seraphim's unexpected speed, I doubt we can run. I have virtually no health left, and Eri alone can't stand against five people.

_No, six. _I see Thomas poking his head out from behind the PKers. He kept mostly silent since The Laughing Man choked him.

But before Saul can act, Seraphim charges at us, brushing past Saul. I try to raise my dagger up to block him, but it's too late. His hands clamps around Eri's neck, lifting her up and over his head before slamming her into the ground. As I charge him, he pulls a knife and places it against Eri's throat. I stop in my tracks.

Seraphim stands, taking Eri with her as he rises. She coughs and sputters, her feet struggling against the ground as she tries to find purchase. Fear swells in my chest as Saul looks at us and laughs.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Before I say anything else, I have to mention I changed something in the last chapter. I referenced PoH and mentioned that Seraphim and the other two bandits were a part of Laughing Coffin. However, Laughing Coffin isn't established for another few months, according to the canon timeline. I'm treating them as a more loosely affiliated organization (and made the appropriate changes in the previous chapter) from here on out - i.e. not yet a clan, but still involved in PKing and whatnot. Let me know if I left any references to Laughing Coffin unchanged, because those need to be dealt with.

Anywho, I have a feeling this chapter and the next one are gonna change a lot of perceptions of certain characters for this fanfic. :P Leave a review, please!

**Edit: **Fixed this chapter of tense issues. Only five more chapters to go until I fixed them all! :D


	6. Gray

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

"Leave now, Saul," Seraphim says slowly, his grip around Eri's neck holding firm, "Cyril will not attack while this one's life lays within my hands. He cannot stomach the deaths of women."

"So you had a little bird with you." Saul smirks. "She's a cute one, too. I can't believe you've gotten a person to trust you again, Cyril. I had even heard you are in a clan, though that was obviously short-lived. In any case," Saul slips back up onto his horse, motioning for his follower to do the same. "It's a pity I can't kill you myself, it really is. Maybe we'll meet again sometime." Saul laughs, "Or maybe not."

I can do nothing as Saul and his friend ride past me. My revenge seems to get further and further out of my reach. My mind is racing, struggling to figure out how I can possibly get out of this situation, but I find myself struggling to comprehend the information I've just heard.

_How is Christian still alive after what happened? And Saul is working for him now? Had they been doing so all along?_

"You will come quickly and without incident, Cyril." For some reason Seraphim's voice struck me as incredibly familiar, but I chalk it up to nothing. Seraphim motions for his bandit friends to tie me up. I acquiesce, fear and uncertainty clawing at me. For the second time in a week, I'm captured by criminals. As they tie my hands behind my back, I try to wiggle some sort of free room, but they easily stop me.

"Why not just kill me?" I ask as the Laughing Man finishes. The other bandit stays by me, his sword poking into my back. Seraphim throws Eri onto the ground and I wince as the bandits start tying her up as well.

"You're a cute little thing, aren't ya?" The Laughing Man smiles, a low laugh, almost a purr, escapes from his lips. "So young and pretty and... _vulnerable_." He flicks Eri's ear with his tongue, which is unnaturally long. I feel the muscles in my face clench as I grit my teeth, infuriated at the display. Eri shoves him off, which only seems to encourage the Laughing Man further. He grabs her by the shoulders with even more force, eliciting a scream from Eri as his hands start sliding forward, under the collar of her armor. A sexual harassment warning message pops up, asking Eri if she wants to teleport the Laughing Man away from her, but as Eri's hands are tied, it's useless. Suddenly, the Laughing Man stops.

Seraphim's blade appears at the Laughing Man's throat. The bandit tenses up, his expression quickly changing from excitement to fear. It takes me a moment to register what happened. As a bandit and PKer, why would Seraphim care what the Laughing Man does to Eri?

"Women are not your toys, Laughing Man." Seraphim says quietly, darkly. "Especially not this one. She will not be harmed. If brutalizing defenseless creatures is your desire," Seraphim smiles faintly. "Go find a sheep, but do not touch her."

The Laughing Man growls, but nods. Seraphim removes his blade. The Laughing Man resumes tying Eri's hands behind her back, this time without incident. We're both dragged onto our feet before Seraphim leads us off the path and into the woods, the opposite way that we approached the tower. Thomas, who has hardly spoken since the Laughing Man choked him, follows behind us, his eyes never leaving the ground.

"Why capture us? Why not just kill us?" I ask, keeping my emotions as well-hidden as possible, trying not to betray my fear. "Aren't you PKers?"

"Under normal circumstances and against a normal player, yes, I would simply kill you." Seraphim says, his voice monotone. "But circumstances are special for you, Cyril. Events that are not usual are occurring. I must acquiesce to the demands of the unusual." The way he speaks seems off, but I don't say anything about it. "I will not kill you."

"But when I was with Steffana, you guys attempted to kill me after capturing us. You made a game of us, setting me free so that you can hunt me down."

"That man-woman, Steffana, killing you was her job. She gave us your location and we 'captured' you." Seraphim explains. The entire time that we walk and talk, he does not look back. The Laughing Man leads me from behind while the other bandit leads Eri. "The hunt was merely an illusion, an excuse so that in the rare event of your escape, our actions could not be traced back to her. You have evaded our traps twice. You are... unusual. Steffana is dead. Her job is now unimportant. Thus, for now, you live."

We walk for a long way; Seraphim keeps us silent. Eventually they place bags over our heads. A long while after, I feel us ascend, but I can't tell where we are. All I can feel is that it's getting much, much colder.

o

**February 1, 2023 – 1****st ****Floor – 71 Days before the April Incident:**

"I'm sorry, I told you already." The armorer shakes his head. "Customer confidentiality. I can't tell you who I commissioned those items for unless I'm ordered directly by my superiors to do so."

"But whoever you made this for may be involved in a murder of an Army official!" Sebastian says, obviously frustrated. After a whole day of tracking down the right Army armorer, he won't talk. "For the sake of the victim, you've got to tell us!"

"I already think it's odd that a non-Army affiliated player is investigating into the death of an Army official." The armorer rolls his eyes, looking back down at the set of leather armor he's in the middle of crafting. "If you're so intent on doing this, you have to talk to my superiors." He says this slowly, as if to an idiot. "Otherwise, I ain't talking."

"Damn it all," Sebastian roars once we are outside, slamming the door to the armorer's shop behind him. It's just me and Sebastian right now. John had left for the 11th floor, while Azaj ran off in Starting City to look for someone. He didn't say where he was going, but the boy was intent on going alone.

"What now?" I ask, leaning against a building. The armorer's shop is at the end of an alleyway. Ahead of us, the streets are becoming alive with the night crowd of non-players.

You can divide the players of SAO into two broad categories: Players and non-players. A player is any number of things: A PKer, a front-liner, an Army member, a soloer. No matter the broad differences, they all have one aspect in common: They actually _play _the game. They fight monsters, level-up, do quests or otherwise participate.

The non-players are... something else.

To call them pathetic is an understatement, in my opinion. They make up about half of all the players in the game. The maker of SAO accurately predicted that nearly all of these players will need a place to live on the first floor, due to being unable to play the game. Starting City is, therefore, massive compared to nearly all other cities found in the game. In the mere three and a half months since the death game began, it sprung up as a city similar to real life.

Non-players don't participate. They sit in their stupid little houses or work at their stupid little bakeries, faking their stupid little lives and pretending that everything is normal, that the next day they'd wake up in bed, that SAO is just a dream.

5,000 potential players. 5,000 potential soldiers. The front lines had, if every single guild's members are added up, 2,000 people at most, which is a number dropping every day. We're a deadly, organized fighting force that has taken on every floor's boss with gusto, hardly needing more than 50 people, at most, for each boss fight.

I grit my teeth just thinking about it. While the Army did a good job organizing many of these people, more than half contributed in no way to the front-line effort, instead living as ignorant and useless as possible. Over a thousand people hadn't even reached level 2, or so the rumors says.

It may seem to the outside observer that I simply have an irrational disdain of these people, but my hatred for them is well-warranted. I'd seen too much non-player desperation and brutality in the first month for me to think that they're worthy of respect.

We're walking down the main road, heading back to the inn we've been staying at. It's a high-class thing, positioned right next to the circular plaza, the place where we were informed we'd be stuck in SAO for a long time to come. I pay little attention to his, instead stuck in my head, feeling anger at every passing non-player. So many of them have ridiculous, bourgeois hairdos or clothes, walking in groups gossiping about nothing.

"Did you hear about Guillard? He proposed! Oh my god!"

"No way, girl! Good for Lindsay!"

I hate this. These people could have been on the front lines. With all that potential man-power, we'd clear SAO in no time! But non-players are selfish, greedy, so concerned for their own lives that they can't bother to escape this hell they refuse to accept.

"My new job at the Teddystock restaurant is _so _amazing!"

"I told you that you'd love it! But isn't it tedious to teleport to floor 9 every day? Why not get a job here? It's so much easier."

I clench my fists, stopping to look back at the two girls who just walked past us. One is wearing an orange dress. Custom-made, I assume, to look like a dress in real life. Beside me, Sebastian has stopped, asking me something I didn't hear. I walk towards the women quickly, then faster and faster as I start to catch up.

"You know, I tried it the other night with James!"

"You mean Ethics Code: OFF? Wow! is it like the real thing?"

I hear the girl in the orange dress ask this, but before the other can answer, I grab her by the arm, spinning her around. She shrieks in shock and alarm, a "Harassment Prevention Code" warning popping up in my field of view, threatening me that if I persist and she okays it, I'll be flagged as orange and teleported away.

"Who the fuck do you think you two are?" I growl, tightening my grip on the woman's arm. "Why? Why would you two just abandon us on the front lines?"

"I don't... understand..." She shakes her head, her eyes wide with confusion.

The other woman is more forceful. "Let Annie go, creep!"

"Do you enjoy your comfortable lives?" I growl at the two of them. "Does it amuse you to waste your lives away, acting like you're still in the real world? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I'm gonna call the guards!" The other one says, her vain attempt at being brave is pathetic to me. Annie is just staring at me in shock.

"We fucking die for you people!" I shout. Around me on the streets, people are starting to whisper and stare. I remember the face of the member of the Holy Dragon Alliance who perished fighting the 9th floor boss, the look of horror on his face as he passed. I think of the Army Representative, whom I never met, who was murdered. "Every day, another front-liner dies, and all you pieces of shit do is _LIVE HERE!_"

The women can hardly respond. A Harassment Prevention Code "Yes or No" message box appears in front of the woman I grabbed, but she doesn't press anything. Eventually, I have the sense to let go. She stumbles backwards, into her friends arms. They back up a few steps before running off, obviously cowed. All I can do is stand there, confused at my sudden outburst.

"Man, I never realized you had that in you." Sebastian walks up behind me, patting me on the back. At this point I'm just staring at the ground, thinking, _Where did that come from?_

"Bravo, bravo!" A voice off to the side, from an alleyway, speaks. We both turn to see a short, black-robed figure emerge from the darkness. "I couldn't have says it better myself." He pulls his hood down, revealing a young face, though he talks in a much older tone. "They bother me, these pests." He gestures around the street. The people who stopped to watch are finally beginning to move again. "All they do, these parasites, is ignore us while we die in anguish and are forgotten. Teddystock is a _Café_, you know. I read their ads a little while ago. It's pathetic."

"Who are you?" Sebastian asks for me. I'm finding trouble formulating words.

"Christian," He extends a hand, "And I'd like to have short discussion with both of you, if you don't mind."

o

** September 2, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 141 Days after the April Incident:**

We were ignominiously dumped somewhere below-ground a few hours ago. I think the day passed by now, but there's no way to be sure. The black bags were removed, but it's pitch black. Somewhere to the side, I can hear Eri breathing, but nothing else.

_Hello darkness, my old friend._

I must have lain there for an hour or so. I scoot myself over to sit next to Eri, though it proves difficult with my arms bound behind my back. She's sleeping against a wall. I'm not quite sure when she fell asleep, but my memory seems filled with blackness at this point. Eventually, she shifts, stirring.

"Cyril...?" She calls, not realizing I'm next to her. "Cyril, where are you?"

"I'm here." I nudge her side. I can feel her shiver from the cold through her armor. "It's okay, Eri. I'm here."

"It's not okay at all." Eri says quietly. She slides closer to me, pressing her frame up against mine, for comfort, I assume. "We... we're lucky to be alive. But where are we?"  
"We're underground, I assume. A cave. Maybe the hide-out of the PKers who captured us." I doubt it can be anything else. The way we were led was purposeful, like they knew exactly where they were going and how to get us there properly. "How are you holding up?"

She's silent for a moment, then her eyes start glowing a light purple. She looks over at me. "Your health is full again, and so is mine."

"They healed me a little while ago."

"That's... good." And we're silent again. Eventually, she breaks the silence with a question I've been expecting. "They called you a player killer. Saul knew you, and it seems like Seraphim does too. What's going on?"

"I... It's a long story. I knew Saul from a long time ago. He was a friend, a clan-mate, or at least I thought he was. He betrayed my friends and my clan, but... I guess it was my stupidity that let it happen. My gullibility." I pause, letting Eri speak if she wants to, but she says nothing, so I continue. "Steffana... I figure I know why she wanted me dead. I just don't know why it took her so long."

"Why? Why did she want to kill you?"

"My stupidity got someone very close to her killed." I say, shaking my head. "All those months of playing with her, I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't. I didn't know she already knew. She must have hated me. What I can't figure out is why she didn't kill me sooner, when she had a better chance."

"You didn't kill this person?"

"No, but I effectively caused it." I grit my teeth. I can remember the screaming so clearly, the mass of people running in fear. And above it all, the laughing. I can still see Sierra's face, virtual blood splashed across her nose, the look of horror in her eyes as she witnesses what I've done.

"What exactly happened? What part did you play?" There's an edge to Eri's voice. She hates PKers. To find out that I was one in the past probably hurt her perspective of me.

"He was a pawn." A familiar voice calls, and the chamber we're in suddenly lights up. Seraphim stands a few feet away, looking down at us from the doorway. A quick check around us confirms that we're definitely underground. "And so was I. Stand. PoH wants a word with you."

Hesitantly, I start to get to my feet. I offer to help Eri, but she ignores me, standing on her own. Seraphim leads us out of the room and into a dimly lit hallway stretching on for a way. Eri seems tense, staring forward, her fists clenched tight.

"How do you two know each other?" Eri finally asks. Seraphim pauses for half a second. I'm confused. I don't know Seraphim. Sure, he seems familiar, and the man is certainly odd. Equally interesting is how he'd told me he won't kill me – an odd statement from a PKer. "You ever going to tell me you were affiliated with the _Mourning Star_?" Eri spits the words out. "Cyril, this would've been a rather important thing to say, you know."

"I don't know him, Eri." I say, confused. "Trust me, I don't know why he seems so familiar with me."

"We're here." Seraphim says, pointing to a door in the wall. He glares at us, his piercing gray eyes scanning us, light-blonde hair falling over them. We all stand there for a second, and I wrack my brain about where I may have seen Seraphim before. He did seem familiar, but...

Gray eyes.

Where have I seen those gray eyes?

Try as I might, I just can't place them.

o

**February 1, 2023 – 1****st ****Floor – 71 Days before the April Incident:**

"Alright, we've eaten, so what do you want?" Sebastian says, his cold gray eyes staring impassively, his black hair falling over them, into Christian's lively brown ones. Christian is young, probably no more than 13 or 14, but he holds a certain charisma and character that defied his age.

"Salvation," Christian says, extending his arms out to the side. I nudge Sebastian, but he doesn't move. I don't think Sebastian believed Christian was insane, like I do. "Salvation from this game, and ascension into the world beyond."

"You mean reality?" Sebastian says slowly, sipping his virtual tea. Christian took us to a corner shop in a forgotten alleyway far from the center of the city, in a part of the city that seems more run down than the rest. It must have been intentionally designed that way, since there is no decay in this game. Or is there? We all sat at a table, Sebastian and I staring across at Christian.

"These _people_," Christian gestures towards the door as a man walks past. "All they do is take, and take, and take. The Army organized them, but they do not do enough to _mobilize _them. Never enough. I counsel Sinker, but he isn't willing to take the drastic steps necessary."

"Sinker? You're an advisor to the leader of the Army?" Sebastian states, his eyes widening, the wheels in his head turning. "Then, tell me, Christian, who are the Resurrectionists? How are they affiliated with the Army?"

Christian seems taken aback for a moment, but soon he simply smiles, returning to his regular, calm expression. "That is an unexpected question. The Resurrectionists are currently rumors and conjecture. How did you find out about them?"

"One of them stole a key meant for an Army Representative," Sebastian says. "A red-headed girl with green eyes. She went off on a tangent about ascension before she teleported away. I have her cloak. Do you know where I can find her?"

"Well, it seems we both can do something for the other." Christian smiles. I feel a chill run up my spine. "Why is this red-head so important to you?"

"I have reason to believe she's my sister."

"I see. If you want to find her, perhaps you can assist me with a small... problem." Sebastian's eyes widened.

"Anything!" He says, perhaps too loudly, too enthusiastically. "Anything at all! What do you need?"

"Wait, Sebastian, maybe this isn't a good idea." I caution, but he shrugs me off. I look over at Christian, who wears a slight smile on a face that betrays nothing.

"What is it? What do you want?" Sebastian asks eagerly.

"Oh, it's quite simple, really." Christian replies, his ever-present smile unwavering. "I just need someone... to disappear."

o

We walk back to the inn silently. We didn't give Christian an answer, but he gave us the target anyway, stating that if she wound up dead, he'd know who to credit. Sebastian is deep in thought, and I can't help but worry. Why didn't he say no?  
Azaj and John still haven't returned to the inn yet, and I'm actually grateful about that. Burning with uncertainty and anxiety, when we finally get back to Sebastian's room, he locks the door behind us and collapses onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"You can't actually be considering this." I say. It isn't yet past midnight, but the night is deep and dark. Sebastian is motionless. "We're talking about _murder_. Sebastian, do you know what that means?"

"Of course I do."

"I-" I stop myself. "This... this is ridiculous!"

"I will do anything to see my sister again." Sebastian says, his expression cold. "A murder... a murder is nothing. I've killed before, and I can do it again."

"That is different, Sebastian!" I shout. I feel panicked, afraid, though I'm uncertain why.

"No, it isn't!" Sebastian sits up, angry. "Everybody dies, Cyril! You have to fucking learn that if you're going to live in this game!" He pauses, surprised by his own outburst, I assume. He continues, more calmly. "The target is just a girl. She's nothing special. She's a non-player, for Christ's sake. And with her death, I might actually get my family back. I'd kill ten-thousand people for that!"

"But the target has a family too, back in the real world." I say, "What right do you have to kill her, to take her away from her family? You can't simply choose who lives or dies!"

"And why not!?" Sebastian stands up, yelling. He rushes towards me, grabbing me and throwing me against the wall, pinning me there. "Why do I have to suffer because I'm unwilling to hurt another? Why should I sacrifice my sister for a stranger?"

"You're not sacrificing her!" I yell back, fear knotting up my stomach. It's irrational. I know Sebastian can't hurt me here, but... "Your sister is out there, somewhere. We can find her! We don't need Christian!"

"And what if I'm too late, huh?" Sebastian's hysterical, I realize. "What if I can't find her in time, and something happens to her? What then?"

"You're irrational! You don't even know if this red-head is your sister!" I shout, struggling against him, but his strength level is much higher than mine, so he holds me effortlessly in place. "You might become a murderer for no reason at all! And how," Sebastian squeezes my neck tighter, "is that," Tighter, "justified!"

Sebastian curses, throwing me to the side. My back slams into one of the nightstands. It breaks under me, a sharp pain shooting up my side. I scramble against the wall as Sebastian approaches me. He stops a few feet away, looking down.

"How do we even know if death in this game is truly death in real life?" Sebastian asks suddenly. I stand up awkwardly, pressing my back against the wall for support. "What if we're simply freeing ourselves by escaping, Cyril?"

"Sebastian, that's ridiculous." I respond, "If that is the case, we'd have been freed a long time ago!"

"You can't know that!" Sebastian says, turning, his arms gesturing dramatically. "I mean, maybe the first two-hundred or so players are killed, so the public is fooled! You can't know for sure!"

"That's not true, and you know it, Sebastian."

"I..."

"This isn't right. You can't kill somebody."

"I... I have to find my sister." Sebastian stops at the opposite wall, leaning his head against the wall. Even in the dark, I swear I see a tear. "I... I'd commit any crime."

"Even murder?"

"Even murder."

o

_It's done._

_ I stand over them now. They seemed so mighty in life, but are so useless in death. As I drop the knife, I begin to laugh, slowly at first, then building and building into a mighty crescendo._

_ I won!_

_ It's the ultimate victory, I think, to master life and death. Addicting, almost. I giggle, manic with euphoria._

_ These are only the second two, numbers three and four. I want more, and more, and more, and more._

_ More._

_ I dance around, my feet making prints in lakes of red, laughing and shouting and being silent. Eventually, I go back to my room, to the Nerve-gear. I don't even bother to wash before I climb into my bed. I fit the Nerve-gear snugly around my head._

_ I must do this more often._

_ But then another thought, a twinge of regret._

_ Why?_

_ No, they brought it on themselves!_

_ They tried to take my Nerve-gear away!_

_ It's their fault!_

_ I didn't do anything wrong!_

_ Angrily I allow myself to slip into the virtual world. It's the SAO debut, and I won't miss it for the world._

_ Oh, it'll be so much fun!  
_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And so concludes chapter six. That last italicized section should be the last flash-back memory thing for that particular character. It ends here because this is the chapter where Christian actually comes into the story. I want to mention one thing, though. I originally stated that the past-half of this story would be the subordinate section of the story, yet it seems to be the opposite sometimes. I hadn't realized exactly how much I would have to write to set up the events that are necessary for the past-half, so it's becoming more 50/50 (or even 60/40 in favor of the past, sometimes). So, yeah. Don't read it as subordinate.

As always, review! D: I need more feedback from the people who read this. Reviews fuel me to write, and they're usually very helpful when it comes to helping me with my writing and storytelling. So please review!

Oh, one last thing. The character Annie and the cafe Teddystock were both taken from Teddystock's excellent yet new fanfic "Saccharine". I figured I should mention where I got the names from.

**Edit:**

Sorry about the re-posting of the chapter several times. I'm getting these crazy and weird formatting errors on my end that I've been trying to fix. I think they're done with now.

**Edit 2: **Edited and modified this chapter in my on-going quality control endeavor.


	7. Sierra

** February 2, 2023 – 1****st**** Floor – 70 Days before the April Incident:**

It never got easier, you know.

I sat in a chair by the window, staring out over the plaza, remarking at how many people were still wandering about, despite it being late at night. Sebastian had spent the entire day searching the city without me, and I simply hung back in the inn, paralyzed by indecision. Briefly, I felt concern for Azaj and John, who still hadn't returned, but it was drowned out by other thoughts. I watched Sebastian's back as he weaved through the night crowd at the far end of the courtyard, steadily getting further away. I sighed, burying my head in my arms on the windowsill. Around him the non-players talked and walked, moving through the city on their way to work, to play, to party, to do whatever it is that non-players did.

I hadn't killed anyone, and it was something I took pride in. Despite how other people in the game had panicked severely in the beginning, killing themselves and others in their stupidity, I had managed to survive. I had thought highly of myself for ensuring that my morality maintained intact, that I was still human.

But what is humanity, exactly? Is it the desire to do good? Is it simply holding back the violent compulsions that drive many, if not all, people? Is it moral to do what you view is best, even if it conflicts with others, or must I try to achieve some esoteric "good" for the betterment of the world?

Despite every way I looked at it, though, Christian had been right about one thing. Non-players were sickening. Below me I could hear occasional tidbits of conversation; it perfectly imitated real life. People dressed mostly as they would in real life in their attempt to convince themselves that nothing was wrong, though perhaps they slanted towards the more exaggerated appearances.

Among the non-players, fashion and design was incredibly popular. I could see people with no obvious skill in battle walking down the road, a swagger in their step with their elaborate and extravagant costumes and make-up, exuding an air of self-importance and wealth.

I was disgusted by them.

Annie, yesterday, was an example. With her orange reality-styled dress and her talk of disabling the Ethics Code, her escapism was apparent. The people who gathered around to watch me yell at her were no different either.

Briefly, the idea of the Ethics Code caught my attention. I had known about it for a little while, having heard about it in passing while on the front-lines. Basically, enabling the Ethics Code prevented people from taking off their underwear. It was a simple feature with significant consequences. With it disabled, it allowed players to engage in virtual sex. There was one recurring idea that I thought was interesting, though. Front-liners often cared little for such things. With the large gender disparity (an estimated one female to every five males, if information brokers are to be believed), it was hard enough to find a partner when you're not looking for one. However, non-players had much more time on their hands and would readily distract themselves with anything, including sex, so desperate were they to deny the reality of SAO.

We were trapped.

I suppose it's comforting to live in denial, to hope and pray for a worthless cause. Maybe it was the same as the magical claims of organized religion, something I had never been drawn to. Indeed, religious groups had organized themselves in SAO, though most of the front-line soldiers tended towards not being religious, while the non-players embraced it readily.

I sigh, turning my thoughts outward, to a couple I see meeting in the middle of the courtyard. The two people, one a pretty girl of maybe 17 years with shocking red hair and a nice smile, and a boy who had an Army uniform. He handed her a flower, a white rose, while he smiled and praised her. She smiles slightly.

How cute.

Romance was reserved for those with the time to propagate feelings of love, for those who didn't have to fight on the front-lines. When you're busy mapping dungeons, fighting monsters and staying alive, crushes and intimacies take the backseat. While I had seen my fair share of attractive girls in the game, I could not imagine myself involved with one. It seemed so unnecessary, regardless of its basic, primal appeal. I had heard many soldiers' fantasies on the front-lines, but more often than not their fantasy is a breath of real air and a look at their families again rather than a night of passion spent with Asuna the Flash.

As the two I had been observing walk off together, I suppose a desperate, lonely soldier might feel some sort of longing or jealousy. I felt nothing much except exhaustion. I stared at the back of the red-haired girl's head, my mind beginning to wander about. Something about her seemed familiar... Red hair...

I bolt upright, then dash for the door, mentally scolding myself for being so careless.

Of course I knew where the girl was from!

How did I not think of it before?

o

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

The first thing I noticed when I entered the room was that there were only three people. For some reason, I had expected more. After all, Seraphim seemed to be a part of a well-connected PK organization. I was unsure why they weren't a clan yet, but I suppose that wasn't important.

We were still underground, so the cave itself wasn't too interesting, though the shadows it cast from the torches lining the walls gave rise to terrible and spectacular images playing along them. After a moment I realized they had been designed that way. At the far end of the cave-hallway was a throne, where a man in a black hooded robe sat. Only his mouth was visible, but it was smiling widely. To either side of him were two more robed players, one which had a carved human skull covering most of his face, the other with a face I couldn't see, but he was built strongly and wore large iron gloves.

"Welcome," The man in the middle started, a smile visible. "First, we should introduce ourselves, I suppose. I am PoH." He extends his arms to the side, a very narcissistic gesture, "And these two companions of mine are XaXa and Johnny Black. They are my elite."

XaXa, PoH, and Johnny Black. They were all names I knew well, considering their names dominated the PK lists. Published every month or so, the PK list was a count of player kills for every single player in the game, and as such the top ten names generated quite a bit of infamy. Seraphim was the second highest, which was quite amazing, though it was under the name Mourning Star for some reason. PoH rested at number 4, with XaXa and Johnny Black tied at number 6. The list proved quite useful for the "revenge" clans – groups of people who hunted down and killed PKers – but while the bottom of the top 10 shuffled quite often, the top 6 remained fixed.

These were the most talented of the player killers in this game, the most sadistic, the most destructive and murderous. Me and Eri were in serious danger. I felt myself tense up as Seraphim pushed Eri beside me. They had stolen our weapons, but I had leveled up my martial arts skill somewhat. I highly doubted it would help me should they decide to kill me, however.

"They look weak," XaXa said, "Let's just kill 'em."

Wonderful.

"Hold it," PoH raised a hand and stood. He pulled his hood back, revealing an exotic and handsome face, smiling sweetly. It was a face any girl could fall in love with. Of course, that was before PoH pulled out a dagger and stabbed her to death.

"What do you want with us?" I demand, keeping the fear out of my voice as much as possible. Admittedly, it was hard. Unarmed and without help, confronted by the three of the most notorious PKers in the game, my lifespan was shortening by the second.

"He's a bold one," Johnny Black said. His voice was deep and strong, intimidating for sure. "Maybe he's a good choice after all."

"I do not make mistakes." PoH said, walking towards us. "By now I'm sure the two of you have figured out that you are in incredible danger simply by being here with us. However, it does not have to be that way," PoH smiled, stopping a few feet in front of me. "Seraphim has spoken highly of you, Cyril, and as such I have a request for you."  
"So you guys go from attempting to kill me to offering me work?" I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep up my ruse of being unimpressed by them. "Forgive me if I don't buy it."

"If I wanted you dead," PoH shrugged, "You'd be dead. There is a certain... satisfaction in a life taken, is there not, Reaper?" The name hit me like a blast of cold water. I try to respond, but I find the words stick in the back of my throat. "Surprised? Really? I would have thought that you'd be aware that I knew who you really were. Seraphim, you really should keep our guests in the loop more. I've gone and shocked him."

I glance at Seraphim, with those familiar gray eyes and that impassive expression. Eri, to my side, seems just as in shock as I am. Her face is a mixture of hurt, confusion and fear.

"You're the Reaper?" She backed away, shaking her head. "But that means..."

"Yes, Eri." I speak slowly, the old guilt swelling back up again. Feelings long since buried found their way to a head once again. And among the screams of the dying innocents, echoing throughout my mind, I struggled to speak. Again I saw the blood and the steel, the fire and the death. "I was the Reaper, a Harbinger for the Resurrectionists."

She backed away, her eyes wide in horror. "No..."

I turned towards her, my voice low yet sturdy. "I caused the April Incident."

o

**February 2, 2023 – 1****st**** Floor – 70 Days before the April Incident:**

I leaped down the stairs, rushing for the front door of the inn, flying it open in haste. By that time, I had lost sight of the red-head, but I kept running anyway. Once at the center of the plaza, I jumped onto the foundation of the monument, casting my gaze about. For a moment, I felt all was lost, but then a flash of red in the dark and I took off running.

The plaza was busy with people, players and non-players alike. Many were occupants of the low-cost housing in Starting City, people who had stylized themselves as "citizens" of Sword Art Online. Somewhere I heard someone calling out, asking for signatures on a petition to change Starting City, an attempt that would likely prove futile. The night-life in this city was active and thriving, it seemed, which didn't help me.

I dashed around one person, a particularly fat guy who was eating and drinking simultaneously. Distracted, I bumped into a woman, knocking her to the ground. I barely apologized as I was running off, her screaming following me. At the edge of the crowd, I could barely see the red hair. I sprinted as fast my virtual body would allow, bucking and weaving around the ever-present press of people. Finally, she was within reach. My hand stretches out, grasping her shoulder and turning her around roughly.

"Finally, I-" I stop, looking into the face of a man, his companion a girl, not a guy. _The wrong people!_ I curse, spinning about, but then I hear a laugh.

It's a soft sound, light and pretty. If there was such a thing as purity, I would imagine her laugh would qualify as such. Ignoring the man I had accidentally grabbed, I dashed away, towards that bright sound. When I see the source, I nearly shout in excitement. Near one of the side streets leading away, the girl walked alongside a taller guy, fairly close together.

I barreled right between them, pulling at their arms and falling forward in the process. I catch myself as I fall, rolling, then stop in a crouched position, staring right into her eyes. She was in the middle of a shocked gasp, while the guy in the Army getup was just beginning to react. I stood immediately, grabbing her hands and smiling.

"It's you! It's really you! My god, this is wonderful!" I nearly shout the words. Euphoria coursed through my veins. I could stop Sebastian! "Look, girl, you've got to come with me. My friend and I, we've been looking for you for a while now, and he's about to go off and do something incredibly stupid if I can't bring you to him. Come on!"

I try to pull her along behind me, but the guy grabs my arm and stops me. I turn around, suddenly realizing that they probably aren't nearly as happy to see me as I am to see them.

"Who the hell are you?" The guy says, angry and suspicious. "And why the hell are you trying to assault my girl?"

"Assault?" _Shit. I should've thought this through. _"No, no! I've been trying to find her for awhile and-"

"What, are you a stalker?" He growled. The red-head looked concerned, looking back and forth between the two of us. "I should beat the crap out of you just for that, jackass!"

Already I don't like this guy.

"Maybe he has a legitimate reason for... being this way." She says, laying a hand on her the guy's arm. "Please, let's hear him out." Grudgingly, he lets go of me. I straighten myself, dusting off my coat, nodding my head in thanks.

"Tell me, red-head," I say, softening my tone of voice. The guy bristles at the nickname, but the girl doesn't seem to mind. "Do you have a brother?"

She tenses slightly, but it's brief. "I did, once. It's not polite to ask a stranger about the real world, you know." She pauses, "Why don't you ask my name first?"

"Alright." I grin at her, amused. "What's your name?"

"Not telling," A mischievous smile.

The SAO username system was an interesting one. As we were in a virtual environment, many people chose usernames that weren't ridiculous, that resembled real names because they resembled real people. I still occasionally see people with names such as "UberSlyerz66", but they're among the minority. (Interestingly enough, an information broker published a study showing that dead players and non-players have the highest percentage of ridiculous usernames.) As for myself, Cyril isn't my real name; it's just the name I chose for SAO. This was likely the same story for Sebastian, too. So while I wish I could just dazzle this girl with knowledge of her brother, chances are her brother wasn't actually named Sebastian, so I couldn't. Of course, there was still a chance that she wasn't actually Sebastian's brother.

"Then let me ask a second question," She nods, smiling slightly at me. I can't tell if she's being friendly, flirtatious, merely tolerant, or what. "What does the key you stole open?"

Instantly, her expression changes and she backs up a step. Even the dimwit companion of hers can tell something was wrong, so he turns to me, an angry expression on his face. He grabs me by the front of my brown coat, pulling at me. However, I notice his strength level seemed low when I grip his hand with mine, slowly prying his fingers off.

"You threatening her?" He growls at me.

"What are you, her guard puppy?" I narrow my eyes. I definitely am not going to get along with this guy, not least of why would be because he won't let me go.

"Brian! Stop it!" He doesn't, so the girl puts her hands on her hips, an annoyed expression on her face. "_S3xyb34ST_, let him go!" The guy freezes up at that, giving me enough to time to pry myself out of his grip.

"What the hell, Sierra!?" He turns to her, his expression and amusing combination of hurt and anger, but I'm too distracted to fully enjoy it. Even so, I feel odd hearing the girl's name. It was, well, pretty. "Why would you use my username? I told you," _He's whining, Jesus Christ._ "I _hate _that name!" He pouts with the last few words, like a small child.

"Seriously?" I start to chortle. "That's your username? S3xyb34ST?" I can't help myself. I burst out laughing, probably infuriating and embarrassing the guy more, but I don't care. Of all the people for Sebastian's sister to wind up being around, it'd be a dumbass. He hadn't even bothered to buy a username-changing item.

"Just let me handle him, Brian." Sierra says to him. Grudgingly, he nods and backs away, but I can see his resentment for me just under the surface. I was still chuckling, but I turn serious when she looks to me again. Her bright green eyes bored into my skull, her face analytical. Finally, she spoke. "So, you know about me stealing that key. I guess it's predictable. I didn't mean to reveal my face when I nabbed it. So, what do you want from me? If you want the key back, it's too late. I already gave it to one of my superiors." She glanced over at Brian, aka 'S3xyb34ST'. "Or are you an Army man coming to investigate? Maybe you're the Representative yourself? I never did see the face of my target's rightful owner."

"The Representative is dead," I say curtly, and she recoiled in shock. _Good, _I think, satisfied by the genuine reaction. _That means she likely didn't have anything to do with it. _"I suspect he was killed by a member of the Resurrectionists, which, according to my information, is a group you belong to."

"T-This is ridiculous!" S3xyb34st says. _God, that name has probably embarrassed him so many times._ "Are you accusing my girl of murder!? I should-"

"For the last time, Brian," Sierra snaps, whirling at him, "I am not 'your' girl. I'm my own god damn person. Treat me as such, or I'm reporting you to the boss." She turns to me, and her expression softens. "Well, I don't know about any murder, but yes, I'm a member of the Resurrectionists. It pays good money and it's usually not difficult work. But what is so urgent that you'd approach me like this?"

"I need your help. Will you follow me?" I ask. She nods.

"Wait, Sierra, you can't trust-" Brian starts to ask, but she whirls on him again.

"I'll do what I want to, Brian. I've had enough of you right now." And, to me, "Where exactly are you taking me?"

"I'll explain on the way, Sierra." I open my map, scanning for Sebastian, "But I need you to come quickly. There's a life to save and a family to rebuild, so we gotta do this quickly!"

o

**September 1, 2023 – 39****th**** Floor – 140 Days after the April Incident:**

"Do you accept the job?" PoH asks, a sweet smile on his handsome face.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice. Some options are simply more wise than others."

I sigh, staring at my hands. Eri hadn't said a word and was simply laying against the wall, her gaze locked on the ground. In my hands was a drawing of the red crystal I had seen Seraphim give Saul, intriguing me, especially after PoH had asked me to retrieve it.

_The Godstone, they called it._

"I accept, but I have a question, still." PoH nodded, allowing me to continue. "This Godstone... what is it, and why would you sell it to Saul if you just wanted it back again?"

"I won't answer the first question, but the second is simple enough." PoH answered. "It leads me straight to Christian. I want him dead, and I'll be damned if I don't get a chance to gut the slimy bastard. "

"Haha, like you can talk, boss!" XaXa chortled. PoH shot him a look and XaXa shut up.

"This seems like a fairly tame request, from a PKer." I glance over the item drawing again, trying to piece together how Christian had tied himself up with these people. PoH was right. He _was _a slimy bastard, so I wasn't surprised. "I'll track the Godstone down and alert you to Christian's location. Should be simple enough."

"There is one more job, actually." Seraphim said, prompting PoH.

"I want you to assassinate Asuna the Flash," He said simply, and I felt my insides curl up, tightening painfully. I ignore it, putting on my most impassive look. "And any other KoB member that gets in your way. I would prefer if you did it in the most public and gruesome way possible, to send more of a message."

"A message?" I asked, surprised. An assassination?

"I want people to remember to fear us, to fear PKers." PoH chuckled, and I could feel a chill run up my spine. "And, trust me, should you fail, you'll never be seeing this sweet Eri of yours again."

"Why pick me to do your dirty work?" I ask.

"Less dangerous for us." PoH shrugs, as if the request was as simple as running to a grocery store. "We're all wanted, recognizable men, with kills counts so high that we'll likely never be green again. You, however, give us a chance to kill without putting ourselves in considerable danger."

"How quaint." PoH smiles at this.

"Seraphim, lead our guests out now. Remember, Reaper, I want the Godstone _and _Asuna's soul. Anything less is unacceptable."

"You know," XaXa piped in, chuckling. "Eri wouldn't be joining you in death for a while if you failed. She... interests me."

To my side, I could see Eri visibly shiver, but a moment later a black bag was over my head and the world was shut out again.

o

It was a while later when the black bags were removed. We, meaning me and Seraphim, were near to the tower dungeon. It was in the afternoon, which made sense considering all the walking. When Seraphim untied me, I stared right into his eyes.

"You don't have to do this, Cyril." Seraphim said. _Is that concern? _"I had thought he only wanted someone to steal the Godstone back after I sold it. I didn't realize he also wanted a hit-man."

"Who are you?" Gray eyes. Where have I seen those gray eyes?

"I can't be that unrecognizable, even if it has been a while." Seraphim shook his head, his expression softening for the first time. He smiled at me, sadly. "But I guess it's unimportant now. You need to get going. PoH didn't say so, but you have a time limit."

"A time limit?"  
"Yeah. You've got two weeks. Here," He opened his menu, materializing a map, "This is the last known location of Asuna. If she isn't dead by that time, they're going to kill Eri, then come after you. The Godstone should be less of an issue. So long as Christian is found, Eri will be safe."

Eri was going to die if I didn't kill an innocent. Right now, they could be doing anything to her, I thought grimly. Trapped in that underground prison, alone and afraid. In my head I was beating myself up, knowing that it was my fault. If I had never hired Eri, none of this would have happened. Her life wouldn't be threatened and I wouldn't be stuck on an assassination mission.

"How did you go from trying to murder me to helping me?" I ask, narrowing my eyes.

"When Steffana hired us to kill you, I had not expected the Cyril she named to be you." Seraphim explained, "I was conflicted, not knowing if I should do my job or not. When you didn't recognize me, I figured I should act as a stranger, as someone else, to at least protect your memory of me. However, you escaped."

"Why did you kill the three others with you?" I asked, remembering how Seraphim had grabbed one of the bandits angrily as I was teleporting away. Seraphim's eyes widened in shock. He probably hadn't expected me to have known.

"I did not intend for their deaths to occur." He sighed, and suddenly the murderer seemed more human, somehow. "I berated them for letting you escape. Knowing who you were meant I wanted to keep track of you, but they set you free. They reacted badly, especially the one you had threatened. He was offended that I seemed willing to sacrifice his life for a job. I did not handle the situation as well as I should have." He paused, and I thought for a second I could see regret. "They attacked me, but they had been weakened enough that they did not succeed in killing me. They died."

"So... it wasn't just a random act of violence?" I admit, I was surprised.

"No." He shook his head. "After you killed Steffana and fled, I predicted you'd wait for a while, then set out to find a better floor to hide." I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off. "You were always a bit predictable, Cyril. I purposefully set the meeting with Saul in front of the dungeon, as you would likely pass through there. However, I did not expect you to attack him. I could not allow that, considering I needed him to deliver the Godstone to Christian."

I recall Seraphim letting my arrow pierce his hand in order to protect Saul. "So you just set everything up so that I'd fall into your little trap and be taken to PoH for this job?" I shake my head, shocked at the scale of it all.

"I knew PoH needed someone. I can trust your abilities."

"I suppose I should be glad I've done this before." I smile grimly as I grab my bow, testing the string for the hell of it. "Though, admittedly, I never had to kill somebody while in such a high profile. Practically everyone who knows me wants to throw me in prison now." I didn't know why I was talking to Seraphim like this. Despite his explanations, it didn't change the fact that he had attempted to kill me not too long ago.

"It'll be okay, Cyril." He put a hand on my shoulder, gripping it in a way that seemed almost reassuring. _Why is he so familiar with me? Who the hell is this guy? _"If I can, I'll make sure Eri can get out of there alive, even if you fail."

"Why would you do that for me?"

"Because you saved someone dear to me." Seraphim says before turning on his heels and walking away. I stare at his back and even his stride seemed familiar. Why? Why couldn't I place it? What was with the sudden change of character? Even his pattern of speech had changed. Yet, this guy was smart. Incredibly smart, enough to accurately predict my actions and ensnare me without my knowledge.

And as I considered it a long time while I walked to town, suddenly it hit me. There were only a few people I knew with such incredible tactical minds.

I knew who he was.

o

**February 2, 2023 – 1****st**** Floor – 70 Days before the April Incident:**

The feel of Sierra's hand in mine was oddly invigorating. I had grabbed it as I raced through the streets of Starting City. Sierra was having trouble keeping up, so, much to Brian's chagrin, I grabbed her hand to keep us together, my dexterity level propelling us along. Eventually we outpaced Brian and, for some odd reason, I was glad to be alone with her.

"To the left!" I shouted to warn her, turning sharply around a corner. We were getting close to the target now, which seemed to be a small house in one of the more run-down segments of the city. I skidded to a stop and Sierra slid forward into my arms. I caught her and she laughed.

"Wow. How high is your dexterity level?" She beamed at me, "That was so much fun! God, I've been stuck with that maniac Brian for so long that I've forgotten how to enjoy myself."

"So you two aren't together?" I don't know why I asked that. Hell, I don't know half of what I'm doing around her right now. "Then what were you doing out with him in the middle of the night?"

"Brian isn't my style." She finally extracted herself from my arms, giving me a coy smile. "He's supposed to be my assistant on the mission I'm on, so I've been stuck with him for a week now. Every day he's gotten me flowers." She rolls her eyes. "How desperate can someone get? I mean, it was sweet at first, but he's always staring at me, watching my every move. It's kinda creepy."

"Well, I, uh, can see why he's, uh, interested." What the hell am I doing? I see one pretty girl and I lose my composure? Am I god-damned high-schooler again? Why am I wasting my time flirting when I'm supposed to be tracking down Sebastian?

"Well, isn't that charming?" A smile. Oh god, she's twirling her hair. She's flirting with me back. I can't-

My thoughts were interrupted by the screaming. We both turned towards the house that had been marked on my map. I curse, grabbing Sierra's hand again as I race into the building. It was a player-owned house, but the door was wide open. This was incredibly unusual, considering the inherently unsafe nature of SAO.

To my right, against the wall, there was a staircase and I waste no time bounding up it, Sierra in tow. I have to give her credit for sticking with me so far, considering I was a complete stranger. As I reach the second floor, I rush to a nearby door, throwing it open.

I don't think I'll ever forget the sight I saw next.

A woman was pinned against the wall, her mouth open in a scream, her eyes wide, horrified. A painfully familiar longsword had pierced her stomach, angling up and into the wall behind her, propping her up. Her feet barely scratched the ground as they scrabbled about for some sort of purchase. Sebastian leaned into her, gripping the sword so hard his knuckles ran white. His head was bowed, digging into her shoulder, and his eyes were wide with bloodlust. The black Resurrectionist cloak clung to his shoulders, its tattered edges flapping in the slight breeze. A split second later, the woman shattered, her silent scream ending tragically.

"Sebastian..." I say, subconsciously raising my arm across the doorway to stop Sierra from entering, but she pushes my arm aside. Her face is white with shock as well, but she approaches Sebastian anyway. He notices us and backs away, sheathing his blade, his mouth hanging slightly open. Above him, a white notification announces Sebastian as the winner of a duel.

_A sleep PK. _I realize, then notice the key dangling from Sebastian's hand. I had no idea where he had gotten it, but that was probably how he had gotten in here in the first place. _A stolen key..._

"No... no..." Sebastian said over and over, backing away. Eventually he falls backwards onto the bed, still looking up at Sierra in shock. "This... this was supposed to be necessary. This was supposed to be necessary!"

"Brother," She says, a sad look in her eyes. "What have you done?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Wow, this is my longest chapter yet. As always, please review! I really, really need the feedback.


	8. Snow

** September ****1, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****140 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

Consumed by blue fire as the teleporter activated, I felt the familiar warm sensation, the peculiar feeling of my virtual form being broken down and transported. My body shone white and I was gone, though just for a split second. Soon a new surrounding appeared, a town I was unfamiliar with. There were people milling about the plaza, talking, laughing. I was back on the front lines.

I wasn't sure what I expected when I arrived. Shocked expressions? Guards attacking me? Nobody even seemed to notice me. I was almost disappointed, but I guess it made sense. Though I wasn't unknown, Cyril wasn't exactly a famous name.

Reaper was a far more well-known name.

I stepped off of the teleport platform, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. I see none; at most I see people half-recognized from boss fights or dungeon patrols in the past, but none of them approach me or even turn to look at me. A few people stopped to look at my bow, surprised that they were seeing an archer, so I unequipped it to avoid drawing attention.

Around me, members of the various front-line clearing clans milled about. The most prominently featured was the Holy Dragon Alliance, which had the most men on the front-lines now that the Army changed its priorities. Nowadays, army officials on the front lines were rare.

It was cold on this floor, cold enough for my breath to show and for me to wrap my coat around myself tightly. I opened my inventory and equip items with a higher warmth setting. It was September now, and was getting colder on all the floors. Somewhere I felt that it was a bit more cold than it should have been here, but the stray thought didn't linger long.

I head for the nearest inn to collect my thoughts. The building was starting to fill up with people as the day ended. Dungeon mappers sat quietly around booths, discussing their days, exchanging data and planning for the future. There was no conversation of the distant future, or of real life. Not anymore.

We have long since moved past that.

Quietly, I moved through the crowd, avoiding eyes and hoping for no familiar faces. I rented a room from an NPC without incident, then headed upstairs and disappeared inside, collapsing onto the bed, my head in my hands.

Asuna the Flash. My target. She was a respectable woman, an upright and honorable character, albeit cold and distant, especially to whom she considered to be less reputable members of the SAO society. To people like me.

It had been a long time since I had last talked to her, though I remembered it clearly. It was the day Sebastian disappeared.

o

A few hours later, it was nearing midnight. As night had fallen, so had the snow, in soft and fragile waves. I was surprised by it, as it seemed a bit early for snow, but I supposed the seasons didn't follow exactly with reality. I watch the mist as I breathe out, taken aback by the beauty of this virtual world. As I held out my hand, a snowflake floated into it, melting when it touched the skin.

Staring across the town blanketed in white, I see the guardhouse where I knew the front-line clan leaders were meeting. Right now they'd be sitting around a long table with a few solo players standing against the walls, listening and occasionally offering input as the clan-leaders discussed the layout of the new floor. The floor strategy would be debated, voted upon and eventually decided by these few. Representatives, they called them collectively.

Briefly, I thought back to Julius and Janice, the murdered Army Representative and his wife. I smiled grimly. Their deaths set me down this road. I wonder when it will end.

Ahead of me I saw another building, a weapon shop, closed for the night. Two pairs of footsteps exited it, leading away from me into the dark. The players who made the prints must have been walking close to each other, maybe even holding hands, assuming the footprints had been made at the same time. For some reason I stopped and stared at these for a long time.

Finally, I looked up towards the guardhouse and wondered about how I would manage to pull off my plan with Asuna. I had two weeks. I figured a week of planning and preparing, then a week to attempt its execution, despite the inherent difficulties.

There were two challenges.

The first challenge was simply engaging in the necessary fight. I wanted to avoid going orange, so a duel or making Asuna orange first would be preferable. However, Asuna was reported to have never been orange, if the information brokers were to be believed. Also, she dueled very rarely, and the few cases that she did were first-hit duels, which were duels until the first clean hit or the first to 50% health.

The second challenge was luring her to the appropriate area and making it a public affair. To prepare for that incident, I'd have to hire someone to stalk Asuna. Easy enough, considering her many admirers, though I'd find it personally distasteful to deal with such people. It was amazing how pathetic people could be. The amount of attractive women in the game, the ones still alive, at least, were few. People jumped at any opportunity to associate themselves with these women, especially because of the existence of the Ethics Code. Some people took this a bit too far, becoming obsessive stalkers who would do anything to get close to the particular girl they lusted for.

And that was just the type of person I would need.

o

** February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"That's... that's the key I stole." Sierra gasped, leaning against the wall in shock, her eyes wide. "The one I stole... How did... how did you get it?"

The energy had gone out of me, and I leaned against the door, suddenly exhausted. It wasn't easy to absorb; I suppose I was still in shock. Sebastian had collapsed onto the bed, his head in his hands. He was shaking his head, whispering slowly to himself.

"No... No..."

"Are you sure, Sierra?" I asked, pointing at it. Sebastian's grip on it was tight, his knuckles white with the effort. Sierra nodded slowly, blinking back tears. I turn my attention back to Sebastian. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to find out what happened. I needed to find out why he couldn't have waited for me. No words came.

"Brother, how-" Sierra stopped herself, and I realized this was going nowhere. We were alone in a house after murdering a woman I didn't even know. She was the target Christian had given us; I was sure of that. However, I had no way of knowing if anyone else lived in this house with her. For all I knew, someone could be coming home at this instant.

Technically speaking, nothing illegal had been done. A Sleep PK was a loophole in the system, a way to murder without turning orange. In a town, if you challenged someone to a duel to the death while they slept, then used their own finger to accept the challenge, you could kill them while they slept and the game would register it as legitimate. It was an unfortunate glitch, but unavoidable.

It was only recently that the practice had become known, but it was yet another life-changing aspect of SAO. People could not sleep unless they were sure they could be alone or undisturbed. To sleep around someone else was akin to trusting them with your life. Inns became a necessity, and houses were bought up quickly when the feature was found out. In an inn, you were essentially locked within an impervious room in order to sleep soundly. In a house it was the same way, except you were issued a key when you bought the house.

I suppose the system was supposed to be as realistic as possible. If you didn't lock your door, someone could waltz into your house and rob you blind or kill you, and you would simply be a fool. However, if your key was stolen then the house becomes unsafe. In light of these facts, I suppose the woman who was murdered by Sebastian hadn't yet found out about the missing key, or else she would have been staying at an inn.

_Why this woman, though?_

I shook my head, leaving Sebastian and Sierra alone as I started to pick my way through the house, examining the objects for any clue of a second resident. I found my proof almost immediately. A picture hung on the wall just outside the bedroom, showing the woman who died and a man I didn't recognize. From the way they were embracing, I could assume they were close.

"Sierra!" I call her over. "There's a second resident. We need to get Sebastian out of here quickly, before someone comes back." I read the plaque under the picture. "Julius and Janice, married December 25, 2022."

She looked me in the eye, confused. "Why? None of us are orange. What is he going to do?"

"We can be marked as orange if he reports us as trespassing." I explain, then further, "And plus, if Sebastian's discovered as a murderer, it could hurt his reputation. People wouldn't be able to trust him or my clan, especially on the front lines. This man could be home at any time. We must-"

"He's not going to be home." Sierra said suddenly, interrupting me. I stare at her, confused.

"What?"

"That man in the picture," She pointed, "He's the Army Representative."

"The _what?_"

"The Army Representative. You know, the guy whose key I stole?" She hesitated, just for a moment. "The one who was killed? If he was involved with her, then I think we can safely assume the second resident was him."

"So then the key you stole..."  
"Sebastian got it somehow." Sierra still looked shaken, but she had stopped stumbling over her words, which I took as a good sign. "He has to tell us from who."  
"I'm not sure if-" I stop, looking around the corner, towards Sebastian. He was still sitting on the bed, head in hands, apparently not listening. I lower my voice regardless. "I'm not sure if he's going to tell us anything. I know he was gone all day today, and my scanner reported he never left the city. I think we just need to get him out of her first."

"I-" Sierra's eyes were tearing up again. "I don't know how much help I can be. I mean, I... I only just now found out that my brother was even _in_this death game, and now he's a murderer? It's all so much to absorb. I can't..." Sierra shook her head, backing away. "I need to clear my head. I'm sorry."

She took off running. I called after her, but it was useless. With Sebastian in the other room, I didn't dare to chase after her. I swore. This whole situation was a mess. A woman murdered, a woman involved in the death of a man recently assassinated. That man whose key was stolen, which was then used to kill the woman.

_What __did __these __people __do?_

Or rather...

_What __did __these __people __know?  
_I walked back to Sebastian, wracking my brain for clues. Immediately I considered the Army man who the key had been stolen from. I needed more information about him. Who hired him to transport the key, and why? The image of the woman dying burned in my head, but though the image wouldn't fade, I felt little emotion for it. As I helped Sebastian onto his feet, softly talking to him to get him moving, my mind didn't stop.

_Why __do __I __not __care __about __that __woman's __death?_

_ Why does it matter more that I know how all this is connected?_

_ Does this murder even bother me?_

But I push the thoughts away and help Sebastian out of the house.

o

**September ****1, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****140 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"Argo is none too pleased with you right now, Cyril," The kid rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "If you need a stalker so badly, I suggest finding some different broker. Someone who is willing to deal with those... unsavory types."

"Look, just tell Argo-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"I'm not telling Argo anything. We're done." He walked back into the alleyway. "Find someone else to do your dirty work." I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see it. The kid runs off into the dark, and I curse, pissed off. I suppose it wasn't unexpected that I was turned down. Argo was one of the honest players, one of the few honest information brokers, more interested in helping others than making money. Still, I had offered a large amount of money for this.

So I'd have to find a more... understanding broker. It would put me behind my schedule, but I suppose no plan goes perfectly. Morally, I should be debating inwardly about killing Asuna, considering she was virtually a fucking saint in this game, which was a rarity. I smile as I walk back towards the inn.

I guess it was a good thing, then, that I had no intention of killing her.

o

I spread myself out on the roof of the inn, ignoring the cold as much as I could. The wind had started to blow and it seeped through even my winter gear, but I didn't mind. It helped me focus.

I needed to focus.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds of the dying night, as midnight began to turn and morning was born. Beneath me in the inn I could hear the revelers and tavern-goers realizing they had to sleep at some point. Down on the streets I heard the stragglers, solitary, though due to desire for privacy or a sense of being ostracized I did not know. In the distance I could hear the barely-present cries of monsters, or of patrols in the dark.

"I hear everything," I say quietly to myself, smiling. "This whole city. The people. All the life that comes and goes. Everything."

"Except for me."

I jump at the sound, shooting up straight quicker than I thought possible. I could feel my virtual heart start to race as my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Ahead of me, standing on the top of the roof where the wood support stuck out, was a female form. It was one I knew well.

"Hey there, Cyril." She teased the words, hopping down towards me. "Long time no see."

"This is unexpected-" I start, but she wraps her arms around me and kisses me. When we break, I crack a smile. "That was even more so."

"You should message me more," Sierra said, smiling back. "Can't think that you went and killed yourself, eh?"

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"What do we do?" Sierra leaned against the wall out in the hall of the inn. Inside the room I had rented was Sebastian, who had hardly spoken since the murder. "I was hired by the Resurrectionists to steal that key."

"And Christian was the one who wanted her dead in the first place, so I'll bet my life that he's tied in with the Resurrectionists somehow." I state, leaning next to her. "We have to get to the bottom of this. What can you tell me about the Resurrectionists? Be as specific as possible."

"I..." Sierra stopped herself, biting her tongue. I look over at her questioningly.

"What? What is it, Sierra? What's wrong?"

"Could we... maybe... do this later?" Sierra said slowly, not looking at me. "I mean, I just found my brother after years of separation, y'know? And I've got work, and then Brian's been messaging me, demanding to know where I am, and I don't know... I just-"

"Sierra, don't worry." I say, wrapping my arm around her. "We'll take care of this. We just gotta go one step at a time." I pull her tighter. "Your brother is a good friend of mine. We're going to figure everything out."

She grabs the front of my jacket, pulling me tighter, burying her head into my chest. "Is it really going to be alright? I mean, that was..." I can hear her sob softly. "Murder." She quietly added.

_There's no way she's involved in it. _I stroke her hair, thinking. _I need to find Christian. Sebastian... he needs to tell me something!_

I extract myself from Sierra and open the inn door, letting us both inside. Sebastian sat motionless on the bed, staring at a wall.

"Sebastian, we need information." I say simply. Sierra next to me says nothing, but so does Sebastian. "Sebastian! This is important! I need to track down whoever gave you that key!"

Sebastian looked up slowly, staring directly into my eyes. I notice he looks like he'd been crying. "Why?" One word, simply spoken. Empty. Sierra steps back.

"To figure out who is behind all this."

"Why?"

"Because we have to track down the Resurrectionists!"

"Why?"

"To help people!"

"_Why!?_" Sebastian shouted, standing. He grabbed the front of my coat, pulling his face into mine. "Why the _fuck _should I care what happens to those other people? Why the _fuck _do the Resurrectionists matter? I had everything figured out. The job would have been perfect and necessary, but you had to go and _fuck _everything up!" He narrowed his eyes, dropping his voice. "I would have killed that woman and walked away happy if you hadn't brought _her _to me." He pointed at Sierra with his free hand, his tone acidic. "_She _was my payment. _She _was my reason. Without that, I killed for _nothing!_ This is _your _fault Cyril. _Yours!"_

I was speechless. Sebastian simply pushed me backwards, storming out of the room.

"Brother!" Sierra called, grabbing his arm.

"_Shut up!_" Sebastian yelled, slapping her arm away. "Why did you even join this game? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don't understand." Sierra's already red eyes were tearing up again. "Brother, what's gotten into you? Why did you do all this? Why are you acting this way?"

"_You!_" He shouted, "You caused all this! You, and _him!_" He pointed at me. "It was my sister, my business, Cyril. My sister,-"

"Sebastian, I-" I start.

"_MY BUSINESS!_" He shouted, then turned towards the door, slamming me as he exited. All of a sudden, the room seemed deathly quiet. Sierra collapsed on the bed, crying.

o

"Why isn't he back? It's already morning." Sierra asked, looking out the window. She was still in her nightclothes, a simple snow-white slip. It amazed me that she was willing to sleep in the same room as me, considering the inherent dangers. She had just met me yesterday. To trust me so soon was, well, foolish.

"Sierra," She turned towards me. Her eyes were still red from the night before, but she seemed better contained now, more put together. The room had one bed, so I had decided to give it to her. As I sat up, my back sore from sleeping on the floor, I couldn't help but be surprised by the realism of it all. The light shone through the window, setting the room ablaze in light. Her hair lit up in the brightness, and for a moment I was stunned by the brilliance of it all. She sniffed, and the picture was broken. I shook my head, about to speak, but Sierra interrupts me.

"I... uh... I don't think I was acting rationally last night." Sierra started, walking towards me. She sat on the edge of the bed, sniffing again. "It probably was a mistake to even follow you to my brother, to-" She sniffed again. "To even be here. With you. Now, I mean."

"What happened last night isn't your fault." I stand, looking her in the eyes. "What Sebastian did, it has nothing to do with you. It isn't-"

"But it is." She said simply, her eyes slightly watering, but her voice still stable. "How well do you know my brother? How close are you guys?

"I've known him for few months. We started a clan together."

"I... see. Has he ever talked about... me? About our family?" Sierra asked, his expression odd. I couldn't quite place it.

"He mentioned you disappeared for years with your mother." I said. She nodded. "I imagine this wasn't the greatest reunion."

"No. No it wasn't." Sierra started to tear up again. Seeing her, I just wanted to help her. To say something that could comfort her, but I didn't know what. Somewhere inside I couldn't help but wonder if I just wanted to help her because she was attractive, but I pushed that thought aside. I couldn't think of anything, but I had to say something.

"Sierra, I..." I hesitated, but quickly recovered. "I'm going to make sure this all works out, okay? Everything will be fine." She looked up at me in surprise, and her cheeks seemed to turn red. I couldn't tell if it was from blushing or crying.

"Anyway," She waved her arms. "It doesn't matter. Let's just... let's just focus on figuring this whole thing out."

I pause for a long while, but ask "What can you tell me about the Resurrectionists?" She sighs, but collects herself.

"It's probably best if I show you."

o

We walk out into the inn's main room, which was virtually empty at this time of the morning. Sierra walked next to me, her arm looped around mine, staying close. We were almost at one of the doors when I heard a familiar young voice calling.

"Hey! Cyril! We're back!" I turned to see Azaj bounding towards me, all smiles. Behind him was John, who betrayed little emotion as usual. What was extra surprising was the person behind the two of them, a muscular and tall woman, who carried demon helmet under one arm.

"So, uh, Cyril," Azaj started, pointing at the woman. "This is my sister, Steffana. I've been gone these past few days looking for her. I coulda sworn it was her in the courtyard that one time, you know? So I tracked her down. Had no idea she was even playing!"

Surprised, I shake her hand. "I'm Cyril, and this is-" I pause, looking at Sierra, wondering what she was to me, "a close friend, Sierra. I've seen you on the battlefield a few times, Steffana. You're quite the fighter."

"Thank you." She says stiffly. "Any friend of my little brother's is a friend of mine."

"Family is... uh... a wonderful thing." Sierra says, somewhat awkwardly, but she smiles and shakes Steffana's hand anyway.

"Azaj means the world to me." She says, ruffling his hair. He protests loudly. "If it came down to it, I'd kill for him."

o

** Sebastian – February 3, 2023 – 1st Floor – 69 Days before the April Incident:**

"I didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"Thanks for the key."

"I figured you'd need it for the job. Your sister was excellent at acquiring it."

"So you stole it in advance. Why go through the trouble?"

"I've got my reasons. Sends a message, you know?"

"To whom?"

"A few high-ranking friends."

"An Army Representative and his wife. I think your 'friends' are obvious."

"Sharp one, aren't you?"

"Don't insult me. Our agreement, it..."

"What? Spit it out, Sebastian."

"I got my sister my means independent of the job. I want a different compensation instead."

"Different compensation? Well, I don't quite roll that way. However..."

"However?"

"I am in need of expert help."

"..."

"And you have proven your ability."

"..."

"My disputes with the Army are not settled."

"Find someone else."

"I've got a great offer."

"Not interested."

"Just one more job, Sebastian. Then call it quits. How about it?"

"No."

"Alright, I'll sweeten the deal."

"What can sweeten murder?"

"Trust me. I know just the thing."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

Hey there. I've decided to start responding to reviews publicly on the end of each chapter. Since I don't have time to go through all of the ones posted in the past, I'm only using the reviews from chapter 7 here, then chapter 8 for the next chapter, and so on. Only the reviews posted before I post each new chapter will be responded to. If it gets to a point in the future where there are too many reviews to respond to, I'll pick and choose which ones to respond to (though I doubt that day will ever come). Anyway, please review in the future! If you're interested in reading my responses, continue on below.

**SatoFumizuki:** Well, the genre is partly romance. Granted, romance is not the primary focus of this fanfiction, though it will be present.

**Eternal Longing:** Yeah, I noticed the tense issues especially when I was writing this chapter. I tried to keep things consistent but, knowing me, I probably missed quite a few. As for Eri, well, Cyril is a complicated guy in the future section, morally speaking. He may view himself as wanting primarily to save Eri, but is that truly his main motivation? Notice he didn't think of her at all in this chapter. Of course, I didn't really shed light on what's really going on in his head in the future section for this chapter. As for levels, well, I would say Asuna and Cyril are about even, considering they're both front-liners.

**AmosTheBaka: **Thank you for the compliment! It feels kinda weird to say that here, instead of in a PM.

**FallenVanguard: **In my opinion, a character is made through their flaws, not through their virtues. To be honest, characters like XaXa and the Laughing Man are my least favorite to work with, especially when they're just introduced. The evil of characters like that often comes off as one-dimensional and it's difficult to build a believable character off of someone that initially appears so immoral. XaXa in the light novels is completely nuts, so I can't really do much to him without breaking canon, but the Laughing Man is mine to do whatever I want with. Depending on how much I choose to use him in the future, I may wind up trying to make him more rounded.

**FrostyMouse: **There was a key in Sebastian's hand last chapter. The origin of that key is explained in this chapter.

While I know there were more reviews made since I published chapter 7, I only responded to the ones made directly for chapter seven out of time constraints. So... if you want your review to be responded to, make sure it's for the correct chapter. If I can tell that you actually meant to review for the right chapter but didn't for some reason, I'll probably respond to your review anyway.

Anyway, thanks for reading these review responses! And remember to review! I need those.

**Edit:**

I changed a line in this chapter that erroneously claimed that the Army Representative was directly stolen from, when in actuality it was a messenger that it was stolen from - an extremely important fact for my story. It is now correct.


	9. Eggs

_ "They're gone. They're both gone."_

_ I stared out over the wreckage that was once the living room of my mother's house, listening to my father speak. He was normally so stoic, so in-control. Now, that illusion was broken._

_ "Where did they go?" I ask. I knew he didn't have an answer._

_ "The police will find them. I'm sure of it." He shook his head. "That damned woman. I never should have let her take your sister. I should have fought in court more. I should have done _something_."_

_ "Sir, it might be best for you to leave." A police officer walked up to us. My father didn't even seem to notice the man._

_ "Why? I ask._

_ "Many people find it distressing to see us root through their personal belongings after an incident like this." He explained, though he still looked at my Dad. "Though it's unavoidable for a thorough investigation."_

_ "It's fine. We didn't live here." I say to him. He nods and tells us to check in with him if we need anything._

_ I thank him, and he's gone._

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"You were away an awful long time, Azaj." I nudge him. "You weren't trying to escape the Vanguard, huh?" He chuckles slightly. As we all walked as a group around the plaza, I eyed the non-players around me. They scurried about in the morning, rushing to their jobs or homes or wherever it was they were going. They seemed to be going in every direction except those that mattered. Briefly, I catch Sierra's eye.

"Of course I was! The Vanguard is such a lame clan. I'd never be a part of it." Azaj laughs, then points at a restaurant. "Isn't that the place you mentioned, Steffana? The one with the great eggs?" She nods. "Awesome!"

"Great... eggs?" John says, looking exasperated. "So that qualifies it as a quality restaurant?"

"Why not?" Azaj says, taking off towards it, shouting at us all the while."Come on!"

"So what's the real deal with Sebastian, Cyril?" John asks me quietly, pulling up beside me. "Why would he be gone if his sister is right here with us?"

"I'll explain it all over breakfast, John." I sigh and John nods. Me and Sierra had an unspoken agreement not the mention what had happened to Sebastian around Azaj, at least not when we first met up with him that morning. I didn't want to keep the boy in the dark much longer, though. John still had to be filled in as well.

Ever since the night before, Sebastian had been missing from my scanner. He still showed up as green in my friend's list, so I knew he was still alive, but he must have found some way of hiding himself from me. I couldn't figure out how.

"So Steffana," Sierra engages the large woman, walking next to her. "What's that clan you're in, Judgment's Arm? I haven't heard of it before. Is it new?"

"Yes, we're fairly new. Armand is the name of my leader."

"Fairly short, kinda old guy with glasses, right?" I ask, remembering the man from the courtyard who had been with Steffana.

"That 'old guy' is the best saber user I know." Steffana states proudly, "I've never seen him lose a duel or give up in a fight. He's even beaten me."

"Really?" Sierra says, surprised. "But practically everyone knows about the Demon now, the incredible greatsword-wielding monster than can breeze through even a floor boss."

"Monster?" Steffana looked down at Sierra, eyebrow cocked. "Well, as long as they know what I can do, I suppose that's okay."

"I'm surprised that you and Azaj are related. You two look nothing alike. He's a small-fry." John says, "How did you two not know about the other playing the game?"

"I was a freshman in college. I had already moved out of the house and I hadn't told Azaj about my interest in virtual games." Our little group reaches the restaurant and Steffana speaks as she places her hand on the door. "Me and Azaj are actually step-siblings. Different fathers. However, our mother and his father made sure that we didn't grow apart because of that."

"Aw, that's sweet." Sierra smiled. "I wish I could say the same about my parents." Steffana pushed the door open and a sweet smell greets me.

"Over here!" Azaj shouted from across the building. Steffana holds the door open as the rest of us go inside. "Hurry up!"

The restaurant itself was fairly busy, owing to it being at the central plaza. I saw mostly non-players (you could tell by their fancy appearances and, if you bothered to pay more attention, the topic of their conversations), but a few players milled about, equipped in their gear. All the players seemed to be members of the Army. The group of us sat in the stall Azaj had picked out. Azaj and Steffana sat on one side of the table; John sat at the head. Me and Sierra sat together on the other side of the table.

I looked around, taking note of the various non-players. Invariably, they dressed well and in vibrant colors and hairstyles. Some of the most ridiculous included a woman in a checkered pink and cyan dress, her hair done up in the shape of three drills sticking out from the top and both sides of her head. Admittedly, most non-players weren't that ridiculous, but there always the few completely outrageous outliers.

"What can I do for you today?" A bubbly waitress asked us. She had vibrant green and pink hair tied into some ridiculously complicated braid. In real life, it probably would have taken hours to prepare, though the game could mimic any hairstyle virtually instantaneously once you do it the first time, as hair was completely customizable for both color and style. I felt myself scowl as soon as I saw her.

"Are you a non-player?" I ask, staring into her eyes. She had different colored eyes, one blue, the other red, but I could tell she was wearing contacts. (Surprisingly, this was a feature of SAO, despite the fantasy medieval setting. You had your real eye color naturally, but contacts could be equipped to change that. )

"Oh you, how impolite." She chuckles, but I could feel a hint of irritation towards me. _So that's a yes. _"Anyone want anything so far?"

I glance over the menu. "Tea," I finally say. The rest of the table orders drinks as well and the waiter leaves. I stare after her, trying to suppress the anger I could feel welling up again. _Those damned non-players could be helping on the front lines instead of wasting their time running restaurants or styling their hair._

"Easy there, Cyril." Sierra placed a hand comfortingly on my leg. I look at her and sigh. "Some people just don't have the guts to work in the field, you know? You can't blame people for being who they are."  
"Yeah I can." I say. "Why are we here, anyway?"

"Eggs." John says simply. I crack a smile at that.

"If they taste anywhere close to real, I'd kill for them!" Azaj says, briefly looking over the menu. "I already know exactly what I want." There was silence for a little while after that, so I took the opportunity to speak.

"Azaj, John, I have to tell you something about Sebastian." Instantly they were at attention, ready to be filled in. I knew the curiosity must have been killing them. I take a deep breath. "There was an... incident. Sebastian is under incredible stress and he's found a way to remove himself from my scanner. I believe the Resurrectionists are involved with what happened, and that he may be around them as we speak."

"The Resurrectionists? So you found them?" John said, surprised.

"More than found them." I motion to Sierra. "She's one of them, and she's willing to tell me everything she knows, including," I catch her eye, "The meaning behind her little speech after she stole that key."

"To be fair, stole isn't the proper term to use," And suddenly I'm curious as well. She continues, "That messenger had been paid off to 'look at' the key at a certain time in a certain place. I would 'steal' it, teleport, then lie low for a little while I turned green again. After that, I was to deliver the key to Christian."

"Why not have the messenger deliver it directly to him?" I ask, and Sierra shrugs.

"I can only guess. I would assume it's because he wants someone to assume the key was stolen in a way that wasn't traceable." She shakes her head. "But only Christian could say for sure."

"Who's Christian?" Azaj piped up, cocking his head.

"My boss, though after last night, I'm not thinking of working for him anymore." Sierra shook her head. "He's got connections all over the place, and I knew he was a criminal, but I had no idea he was _that _bad."

"Christian? You mean of the Army?" Steffana asks. I shrug, unsure. "I know there is a boy who works with Sinker as an adviser in the Army. Apparently he's a genius, but is incredibly cold and calculating. Despite his age, there are many rumors swirling about him being devilish or evil."

"He certainly didn't act like he was as young as he looked." I shiver. I remembered those cold, dead eyes of him, the matter-of-fact way he asked us to kill a woman.

That, in and of itself, confused me. Why would Christian decide to ask a few random strangers to kill somebody for him? How would he even know that Sebastian would go through with it? What if we weren't random, and he tracked us down specifically? I couldn't figure it out. And above even that was another pressing question.

Why did Sebastian decide to go through with it?

At this point the waitress had returned with our drinks. I eye her again as she's putting them on the table in front of us, and I could tell I was making her uncomfortable. She sped up her work and I chuckled inwardly.

"How long have you worked here," I read her nametag, "Lucille? "

"Long enough. Why?" Her response is short and snappy, annoyed, but also slightly nervous.

"Let's say a month." I scowl. "Do you know how many front line soldiers have died in the last month, protecting the future of a worthless non-player like you?"

"Cyril!" Sierra gasps, shocked. Azaj and John seemed shocked as well, but Steffana remained impassive. I smirked at the waitress, who had just finished putting the drinks down. "Cyril, you shouldn't be saying things like that. It's not her fault-"

"Not her fault about what, exactly? That she's a weak, pitiful woman who can't help our cause? That's she's a worthless waste of space, like all the non-players?" I wave the waitress away. "Get the hell out of here." She scurries off, obviously cowed.

_Pathetic._

o

**September**** 2****, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****141 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"Godstone, eh? Sounds serious." Sierra sucked in air through her teeth. "I had thought, or rather hoped, that Christian died that day in April. What do you think he's planning?"  
"I don't know, but his time will come later. For now, I need to get ahold of Asuna." I looked over at her. I had spent the better part of an hour explaining to Sierra where I had been the past month or so, when I had parted with her last. She didn't speak most of the time, merely nodding her head even when I mentioned Steffana's death – something that intrigued me, though the two women had never been close.

"You really think she's going to help you?" She asked, laying on her back next to me. We were still on the roof. In the distance, I could tell the meeting between Representatives had finally ended. Likely all of the clan leaders would be heading back to their respective beds, wherever they may be, to sleep a mere few hours before early morning patrols.

I didn't envy them.

"I honestly couldn't say. Last time I checked she hated my guts." The wind had died down by now. Above me I could see the fake sky projected by the ceiling above us, giving the illusion of a wide open space. "You know, Sierra, some conspiracy theorist players believe that Aincrad is invisible when looked at from below, and that we're actually seeing a projection of the real sky."

"What do you define as real?" Sierra scoffed. "Some players just can't wrap their heads around our forced new life. It's already been ten months."

"How long do you think we'll be here?" I ask and Sierra thinks for a moment.

"Mathematically speaking, it's been nearly ten months and we've gotten to the fortieth floor," Sierra shifted her body closer to mine. "That means three to four floors a month, or thirty-six to forty eight floors a year. Optimistically speaking, we'll be at floor 100 in around fourteen or fifteen months, which is November or December of 2024. Of course, that's just estimates."

"You can't just reduce everything to mathematics." I say.

"Watch me." She counters, smiling.

"Why do you keep track of the months?" I ask her, "I just turn the time feature off."

"I like knowing exactly when it is in real life. Keeps me motivated, you know?" Sierra shivers, despite her warm gear. "However, I have noticed that floor clears seem to be getting slower.

"They vary greatly. Remember floor 22?"

"Oh god, that was a breeze." She laughs, "People kept spreading rumors about some monster in one of the lakes, but I couldn't give a crap. I just wanted to get through. I mean, that was when-" She pauses suddenly; I understood why. "Nevermind. So what's your plan? I'm assuming you're including me, right?"

"We haven't worked together since April, Sierra." I sigh, pondering my next question carefully. "Would you even trust me after... that?"

"You've wanted to ask me that for a while, haven't you?" Sierra asked quietly. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault, Cyril. You were just a victim of circumstance. Besides," She smirks. "Why would I kiss someone I didn't trust?"  
I heard the screaming again, and saw the red again for just a second, but it passed. "Victim of circumstance my ass. If I had a chance to do that all over, I'd do the same thing. But saving you wouldn't have been necessary if I hadn't-"

"Don't say it."

"I'm serious."

"We've talked about this before." Sierra propped herself up onto one elbow, looking at me. _She made her hair black, _I noticed for the first time."You need to stop beating yourself up over what happened."

"Do I sound like I'm beating myself up?" I stared at her.

"No, but inwardly I know you're thinking it." Sierra didn't blink from the stare. I finally looked away before she did, sighing. "You know I don't blame you for what had happened. I'd never blame you. Nobody saw it coming, not even Sebastian, and he's supposed to be a brilliant one."

"Oh, so I'm not brilliant?" I pouted and she chuckled.

"You're _special_." Sierra said, but after a moment she turned serious. She climbed on top of me, straddling me and leaned into me, putting her mouth next to my ear. I could feel her breath on my neck. Surprised by her being so forward, I open my mouth to speak, but she cuts me off. "We're being watched," She whispers. Instantly I become alert, but don't outwardly react. "It's the house across from the inn, a person hiding just on the other side of the roof. He's been here for a few minutes now."

"I would've noticed him." I whisper back, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her closer to keep up the illusion. "I routinely scan the areas around me, and I've picked up nothing."

"No offense, but your scanning level is pretty low." She lifts her head up, smiling at me. "He hasn't reacted, so I don't think his listening skill is high enough to pick up our whispering. Plan?"

"Just follow my lead." I sit up, with Sierra still on my lap, kissing her. I run my hand up under her shirt, towards the middle of her back and stopping at her bra.

We break. "What kind of a lead-" I cut her off by kissing her again and open my menu with my other hand, hidden from view by Sierra, materializing a long and thin metal shard in the hand hidden by Sierra's shirt and a coil of metal wire in my other. We break. "Oh."

I shift Sierra over, laying her down on the roof next to me, acting as if I'd about to climb on top of her. As I turn, I catch a glint of light from the building across the road out of the corner of my eye.

_There you are._

Immediately I pull my hidden hand out of Sierra's shirt; the metal shard shone blue as I activated my Throwing Item skill, aiming at where I thought I saw the light. It flashed across the gap between the buildings, but before it hit home I had already leaped from the roof of the inn. It was a thirty foot gap easily, impossible in real life, but my Dexterity was high enough to make it in SAO. I aimed my jump for the right side of the spy. In the middle of the jump I saw the shard impact the supposedly hidden player, exploding in a shower of light and sparks.

I heard a yell as I touch down, pivoting to the left and leaping towards the man. Despite my surprise, he was already up on his feet. However, it was too little, too late. I cast my metal wire out towards him and it wraps around his ankles, tripping him. In a moment I was on top of him, pinning him to the roof, his arms useless.

"Damn it," He cursed, his face pressed against the roof. Sierra alighted nearby, running over to us with a concerned expression on her face.

"Why were you spying on us?" I press, but I figured it was a futile. We were in a town, so I couldn't actually injure the guy, so likely he wouldn't tell me anything. Didn't hurt to try, though. "What do you want from us?"

"God damn it, just get off me." I acquiesce, sitting next to him. I leave my metal wire wrapped around his legs in case he tries to run for it. He awkwardly shifts into a sitting position and I suddenly recognize him.

"John!?" My jaw practically drops, and I'm sure Sierra's did too. "Jesus Christ, I didn't think I'd see two old friends in one day."

"Maybe you could greet me a bit more nicely, like you would've done for her." John tugs at the wire, trying to free it. I let it off of him for him. "Scratch that. You probably kissed her or something."

"I could give you a kiss if you want it." I joke, punching him in the shoulder. "What the hell are you doing on the front lines, John? I thought you gave up on us!" I laugh and he smiles back at me, but it was a fairly shallow one.

"What's wrong?" Sierra asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You don't look too well."  
"Aside from being ambushed and hog-tied? I'm great." He rolled his eyes. "I'm here on Army business. Investigating an anonymous tip we got a few hours ago."

"Doesn't explain why you were spying on us." Sierra folds her arms.

"Hey, it's not often I see two people on a roof. I thought maybe something was going down." Sierra rolls her eyes at that.

"Voyeur." She scoffs.

"What tip?" I ask, changing the subject. To be honest, I wasn't very interested in why John was spying on me.  
"Someone's got a hit out on Asuna the Flash, supposedly." John said, looking me in the eyes. "I'm working in conjunction with the KoB to look for the hitman."

"Why would Sinker bother with that?" Sierra raised an eyebrow. "What does the Army gain from helping a KoB member?"

"It's simple, really." John states, "Asuna is a prized front-line fighter with extensive experience. Losing her would be a deathblow for all players and would definitely hold us all back from completing the game."

"This is all very interesting." I chuckle. "Because I'm the guy that was hired to kill her."

"You're _what_?" John asks, shocked. He narrows his eyes at me.

"Relax, John. I have no intention of killing her. In fact, I need her help with something."

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"I was approached by a stranger about a month ago, asking me if I wanted to join the Resurrectionists." Sierra was in the middle of explaining her involvement. We had still neglected to inform Azaj and John about Sebastian murdering a woman. Instead we passed it off as him falling in with a shady character. Namely, Christian. "I was immediately deferred to Christian, for some reason. I didn't realize at the time that was actually very rare. Christian is one of the highest-ups in the Resurrectionists. He may even be the leader of all of it. For some reason, though, he chose me as his personal thief. I've run at least two dozen or so missions for him now."

"The Resurrectionists must have formed pretty quickly after SAO started, then." I state. "But they can't be that wide-spread of an organization after only a few months."

"I'm part of Christian's expansion and awareness initiative." Sierra responded. "It seems to me that a major part of Christian's agenda is expanding the territory and influence of the Resurrectionists, through the use of rumors, covert operatives in the front-line clans and other means."

"Why does he want to have that kind of network?" Steffana asks, but Sierra merely shrugs.

"He's kept you busy." John whistled. "How skilled of a thief are you?"

Sierra flashes a smile. "I could steal Heathcliff's sword and shield if I so chose."

"No way!" Azaj dropped his fork into the plate of eggs and rice he had in front of him. John scoffed, unbelieving.

"Anyway," Sierra, for some reason, had slid herself closer to me. Our legs were touching now, even though we were a foot apart when we first sat down. "My jobs vary in difficulty, but it's all stealing related, though it doesn't random at all. All my targets seem to be affiliated with the front-line clans in some fashion, though most seem to be from the Army."

"What about that little speech you gave?" John asked. He ran his hands through his short brown hair and leaned backwards into his chair. "The one right before you teleported after stealing that key."

"Christ, that was nerve-wracking. Never had a guard chase me before." Sierra breathed, "I hadn't expected my cloak to get lost either. I suppose I got lucky that spear didn't hit me. Anyway, your question. Well," She paused, thinking, "I was instructed to say a little speech like that after a few of my higher profile jobs, when I'm out in the open and being paid attention to. Christian likes to talk that way, of ambiguous nonsense like 'ascension' or 'revelations' or whatever. I've just kinda gotten used to it. I don't really know what it all means."

"You didn't have any idea what that key was for?" I asked. She shook her head, but then suddenly got an idea and spoke.

"You know, I wasn't actually given any personal details about my targets, but I have heard rumors about Julius and Janice." Sierra was smiling now. "It was their house that the key I stole opened." John nodded in understanding.

"Who are they?" Azaj asks.

"The Army Representative and his wife who were murdered recently." John answers. "I heard about the wife this morning from some news vendor. The city is going mad about the whole Sleep PK feature now."

"Anyway, the rumors I heard were interesting," Sierra said, "Julius was a high-ranking Army official, someone who represented Sinker's interests on the front lines. He was murdered in a dungeon by one of his men, who was subsequently detained, about a week after I stole the key to his house. I didn't actually deliver the key until four days after the steal, when I went green. I had also heard in passing from some Army guys I know that Janice was known as a complete basket case."

"A basket case?" Azaj piped up. "She was a basket?"

"No, it means she was crazy," Steffana corrects him. Sierra laughs a bit at that. "How was she crazy, Sierra?"

"Something inside her snapped when she got locked in the game. She was married to Julius in real life, so they got married here too." Sierra took a sip of her drink when she paused, "However, she wasn't willing to play the game, despite how Julius pushed her."

_ So she was a non-player? Good. She got what she deserved. _I thought, but then realized exactly what it was I was thinking. _Wait a second. Am I really condoning Sebastian's actions? But what if he __feels the same way about non-players as I do? Could that be why he decided to murder Janice? Does that mean that I would be willing to do the same?_

"She locked herself in their inn rooms, and later their house when they could afford to buy one. She refused to fight monsters or join the Army." Sierra shakes her head. "Apparently she was just so afraid of dying that she couldn't do anything here. Julius was perfectly fine, though, and was a skilled player. He provided for her regardless of her craziness. Honestly, I'm surprised she fell asleep the night of her murder like she did, considering how her husband had just been killed."

"Maybe she didn't know?" I ask, but another question was nagging at me. "Why would she stay at the house if her key had been stolen a week before?"

"She didn't believe in Sleep PKs. Thought they were just a rumor. A lot of people still think that." She shook her head. "Poor idiot. Anyway, the key had actually been missing a long time before that regardless. Julius had been pressing her to move out, but she refused to leave the house, despite the missing key. As I said before, when I 'stole' the key, I was actually just lifting it from a person paid off to let me take it, who I assume had acquired it from elsewhere. From whoever it was that got the key in from Julius and Janice in the first place."

"Well, then I can see we've got a few people to talk to." I state, clapping my hands together. "The messenger you stole from, and the guy who actually murdered Julius. Maybe we can get to the bottom of this after all."

"Wait, we're investigating the murders? Like on a TV show?" Azaj nearly jumped out of his chair in excitement. "Oh god, let's go now! I wanna interrogate them! Good cop, bad cop or something like that, right?" He breathed, which I was grateful for, considering he could get very worked up when excited. "I can threaten their families, and then Sierra can flirt with them and stuff, so we get what we want!"  
Sierra laughs. "Well, aren't you cute? Sure, let's do that." I could tell she was joking, but I rolled my eyes anyway. Encouraging Azaj was never a good idea. But then she continues, more seriously. "There's still the matter of the Resurrectionists and finding Sebastian, though. I have to show you the rest of what I know, Cyril. I suggest we split up."

"Oh god, it's even more like the movies!" Azaj nearly swooned.

"Alright, I agree." I say, then look to John. "You've already done what you can on the top floors talking to people about the Representative's murder. I want you to look for Sierra's Army friends now and see what they know. Azaj," I look to him. I didn't want to entrust a job to him, considering his age, but I figured he may be able to handle it. "Go back to the the floor and see if you can find that messenger we talked to. You seem to be good at finding people. Sierra and I will track down the Representative's murderer, since he was placed in custody."

"Got it, sir!" Azaj saluted stupidly and immediately ran off. Steffana apologized to us, registered me as a friend, then immediately chased after him. John hung around for a little bit longer, getting information from Sierra about where to find his targets, then headed off.

"Just us now." Sierra smiled at me. _So she really is flirting with me. _"Well, I'd better show you what it is that I know. Come on, we should hurry."

She ushered me up, I left the money to pay for the meal and we left out the front door.

o

**September**** 2****, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****141 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"So why'd you start working for the Army, John?" I asked as we walked down the empty snowing roads of the town. "Front lines too much for you after all?"

"After the Vanguard fell apart, I needed work." John was bunched up in his winter gear, warding off the cold. Sierra had wrapped her arm around mine and was pressing close, warming me up. "And Sinker needed the help. It was just kinda natural, you know? Especially after our role in dealing with the April Incident."

"How... How do you feel about what happened?" I asked, surprising myself with the stutter. "I mean, I had thought Steffana had made her peace, but she tried to kill me because of it. Are you, uh-"

"Going to try and kill you?" John sighed, shaking his head. "As much as I'd love to blame you, I can't really do it. What happened, happened. If anyone is to blame, it'd be Saul, honestly. He set us all up. And Christian."

"I'm grateful for your understanding, John." I smile at that. It was nice that not all of my former clan-mates were enemies with me now.

"Yeah, well, we're friends." John smiled. "Anyway, I'm not sure how the KoB are going to react when you announce that you're the hitman out to get Asuna. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"She either helps me, or I kill her." I say, aware of how cold it sounded. "I'd prefer the first option, but I won't back away from the second."

"The KoB don't take kindly to threats." Sierra says. I glance over at her and notice there still wasn't a clan emblem displayed. So she was still a solo player after all this time? "I would suggest not announcing that to them."

"Besides," John started, stiffening. "If you do try to kill Asuna, I'll be forced to detain you. It's my mission to ensure that she doesn't come to any harm, regardless of the source of the aggression."

"I understand." I say, and I could feel the atmosphere between the three of us grow incredibly tense. I can't help but wonder about the incredible speed of the Army's response. I had only received the order to kill Asuna a half a day before (and I haven't slept since, I thought, exasperated). The Army's reaction seemed too fast. Had they been tipped off by PoH? Why would he do that? John decides to change the subject.

"Anyway, I'm still searching for Sebastian. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him since the Incident." John sighed, letting the air mist up heavily in front of him. "Slippery as an eel, even with all my connections."

"It's because he changed a few things about himself." I say quickly. John stops, then turns around and looks at me, confused.

"You found him?"  
"He found me."

"What happened?"

I laugh at the question. "A hell of a lot." Next to me, I feel Sierra staring at me, surprised. I hadn't actually told her about me meeting with Sebastian. "Sebastian dyed his hair from black to blonde and changed his username. That's why he disappeared from our friends list too. Despite that, you've probably heard of the new name."

"What is it?"

"Are you sure you want to know?"  
"What the hell kind of a question is that?"

I sigh, about to say it, but Sierra lays a hand on my arm, her eyes clearly warning me of something. "Sorry, John. I can't tell you. At least not yet."

John rolls his eyes. "Jesus, Cyril, you're whipped."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Yet another long chapter! Please review! I do have one little notification, though. In my previous chapter, I made an error and stated the key was stolen from the Army Representative, Julius, himself, when it was actually stolen from a messenger. That has since been corrected. The review responses are below.

**Eromancer: **All criminals in the game are given orange cursors (the things above their head), even murderers. However, the culture of the players in SAO call murderers "red players", even though they're actually orange. It's like "beater" being an amalgamation of "cheater" and "beta", even though the players themselves aren't really cheating.

It's kinda confusing, I know, but that's how the light novel does it, so that's what I'm sticking to. So far the anime is following the light novel about it as well.

**FrostyMouse: **Well, there's not much I can really say here that wasn't said in our PM conversation. Considering that conversation has spoilers, I am not going to repost it here. However, I will say that I am glad that you have decided to take back your claim that there was a plot hole.


	10. Assassins

**September**** 2****, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****141 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"You've got to be kidding." John scoffed, surprised. I looked forward and could see the KoB's designated inn for this floor. "There's no way that your level is _that _much higher than mine! You're mistaken."

"I don't think I am." I say back to him. Beside me, Sierra was looking around us, staring at the architecture of the buildings. Ahead of us, I see that the lights are still on in a few rooms of the KoB inn, as well as the lights for the bottom floor, where the NPCs ran the place. "I've stayed on the front lines this entire time, but you've been slacking off in the Army."

For convenience and organization's sake, the larger clans usually had an inn all to themselves, as there were usually several inns on each floor. There were still logistical problems, especially on the floors with smaller towns, but the town here seemed large enough to maintain most, if not all, of the front-line clan members. The clans were encouraged to keep a rotation going, so people were exploring the floor and mapping the dungeon at all times of the day, with the returning patrols taking the place of those who had returned.

As Sleep PKing was a major issue, especially considering that many clanmates shared rooms, people with a history of murder were rarely, if ever, allowed into front-line clans. The few that did were usually kept separate and carefully watched.

In my opinion, that encouraged the issue of the PKing clans, which seemed to be growing every month. As criminals are turned down or away from the front-line clans, they turn to the PK clans to make their fortune and earn levels. Even so, what can you do with a murderer? You can't trust them.

I sighed. I was probably going to be a solo player for a while because of the incident with Steffana. Likely Armand and Thomas had done a very good job of letting all of the front-line clans know that I can't be trusted. If Asuna had heard as well, then my chances of getting her to work with me were very slim.

"We're here." John stated before banging on the door of the inn. After a moment, a gruff-looking man opened the door. John hardly seemed so tall or muscular next to him, which was doubly worse for me, since John had a much larger frame than I did.

"Who're you?" He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you want with the Knights of the Blood?"

"Godfree!" John said. He smiled, a rare thing from the normally impassive man. "Don't you remember me from floor 32? No? Well, I'm sure you've already been informed of my visit from Sinker. I was sent to coordinate some sort of response with Heathcliff regarding the hit out on Asuna."

Godfree stares at us a long time before backing away, letting us into the inn. "I'm not sure why you need two other players to do that job of yours, John, but I doubt you could cause problems even if you tried." He says, ushering us inside and closing the door behind us.

"How pleasant." I mutter under my breath. Around me, the inn is dimly lit, with a few nocturnal players milling around the tables and talking quietly, despite it being the early hours of morning. A few turned to look at us; most didn't seem to have much of an interest. The place didn't look very well furnished and many of it was simply bare wood.

"This is nice." Sierra said, looking about awkwardly. "It's uh... quaint."

"The KoB care little for comfort." Godfree says, his head raised proudly. "We are warriors, through and through!"

"Enough already." John says. I smile at that. I think John had said more words today than he had in a long time. Normally he was incredibly quiet, nearly silent, except when engaged by some issue. "Take us to Heathcliff and Asuna. I have to speak with them about the, uh, 'problem'." Godfree nodded his understanding.

"They're waiting for you on the second floor." He replies, and leads us up the stairs. The inn's second floor wasn't any prettier than the first. Depending on the size of the town, inns could vary from being multilevel hotel-like monstrosities to tiny buildings with only a handful of rooms. This particular one seemed a bit in the middle, with three floors and at least eight rooms on the top two floors, and half that on the first. However, there was virtually no furniture or comfort to be seen on the higher floors. The halls were lit by bare candles.

We walked a short distance and Godfree knocked on a door. We were near the other end of the building from the stairs. A voice called from within and Godfree opened the door for us, letting us in.

"That's all I'll need from you, Godfree." A fairly deep, male voice called from inside. Godfree nodded and closed the door behind us. "John, is it? I didn't realize you were coming with two others."

"These are... people of interest, Heathcliff." John explains. The man, Heathcliff, motions for us to sit at the round table set up within the room. Asuna sat next to him, leaning back in her chair, a bored expression on her face. When she noticed me, her expression changes dramatically, from boredom to shock, then anger.

"What are you doing here, Cyril?" Asuna says. Her voice was calm and contained, but I could feel the raw, cold irritation. "I didn't realize you and John were still working together."

"Well, hello to you too." I say, leaning against the wall instead of sitting. John and Sierra take a seat roughly across from Heathcliff and Asuna.

"Do you want him to leave, Asuna?" Heathcliff asks, his expression unchanged. I had always thought he was an odd fellow. There were numerous rumors about the man, and they all agreed that he was an exceptional and fearless player of the game. He was both handsome and intelligent, with a body type that was too thin to fit with his skill set – that of a sword and shield warrior. There were even rumors of him using a special, one-of-a-kind skill, one that was far superior to the classic sword and shield. Despite his abilities, he rarely participated in boss fights, preferring to lead people from the back, intervening only when necessary to save some of his men. Asuna and Godfree were two of his vice-commanders, both notoriously skilled fighters, though in much different fashions. Asuna was a skilled rapier user, specializing in speed over strength, while Godfree was practically the opposite, preferring raw power over finesse.

"No, let him stay; he isn't worth anything, anyway." Asuna eyed me before turning to John. "You mentioned in your message that you had uncovered the identity of the assassin. Who is it? I'd like to confront him soon and get this over with."

"I have to say, the Army is surprisingly efficient." Heathcliff stated matter-of-factly, "I was not expecting to have the identity of the problem mere hours after we were notified of the hit."

"Notified?" I asked, curious. "Someone tipped you guys off? You didn't find out on your own?"

"The information broker the KoB uses most often contacted us with the information." Heathcliff explained. "We trust him, so I'm sure that it's not a hoax. I take these kinds of threats to the members of my clan very seriously."

"As do I." John says, leaning back. "But I'm not here to talk, really. Cyril is."

"What?" Asuna raises an eyebrow, surprised. "You're the contact from the army. You know the identity of the hit-man. Why wouldn't we hear it from you?"

"Because I'm the hit-man." I say simply, smiling. "I'm the one sent to kill you."

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

We left the restaurant quickly after John, paying exactly the amount we owed. I refused to give a tip, despite Sierra's complaints. Non-players didn't deserve my kindness, I had explained to her, and she simply rolled her eyes at me and told me to get over it.

Immediately we headed towards the Black Iron Castle, the headquarters of the Army. Below it were the prisons, where orange players were stored until their sentences were fulfilled. There was a somewhat-present judiciary system that made attempts at keeping law, but I regarded it as mostly ineffective, as did most players. The extent of the law was usually simply tracking down orange players and forcing them into jail. Of course, that's assuming you can even get an orange player to surrender, and that nobody decides to just kill the orange player anyway. Technically, the judiciary committee had deemed it illegal to kill an orange player who has surrendered, but that didn't stop people from doing it.

There were also rampant rumors of torture, a complicated thing to replicate in this game. Technically speaking, being hit by attacks in a fight shouldn't hurt. However, environmental effects do cause pain. If you slam a person's head against a wall, they will definitely be hurt by it. Anyone that's not specifically being hit with weapons can feel whatever it is that's hitting them, be it a rock, a piece of wood, or something else.

Waterboarding had also made its comeback in SAO. SAO has a built-in drowning system, despite the fact we don't need to breathe. However, drowning can't kill someone, so the result is that the person being drowned will experience all the terror and pain of it without being able to die. The torture could go on for hours without stopping.

In my opinion, the immunity to death from certain environmental effects, like drowning and hunger, or from attacks in town, made the game more scary. A person in the dungeons could be starved for weeks, perhaps even months, and would never die, leaving him in a state of constant excruciating pain. Also, people could gang up on other players in towns and beat them senseless using environmental effects. The existence of the standard knockback effect in towns was also problem. Any attack on a person in a town was subject to a calculation of strength against their armor. The stronger the weapon in relation to the armor, the more powerfully the person would be thrown back by the attack. It was a powerful bullying tactic. As icing to the cake, once the person being abused fell unconscious, the abuser can finish the job with an easy Sleep PK.

All this information had taught me was that people are very, _very _talented at finding creative ways to hurt others.

"God damn it," Sierra swears, her hand fiddling with her menu. She was walking a short distance ahead of me. "Brian keeps messaging me. He just won't quit."

"You mean S3xyb34ST?"

"Well, yeah," She shakes her head, exasperated. "Brian has been assigned as my partner for the foreseeable future. He's been messaging me every few minutes ever since last night, demanding to know where I am and if I'm with you."

"Why call him Brian instead of his username?" I smirk. "It's really quite clever."

"I know, right? When I first met him, I used to tease him about the name." Sierra explained. "But he would get so damned offended. One time he started yelling and throwing things."

"Shit."

"Yeah, I know." Sierra tosses a look back at me. "He kept saying 'Not you too!' and other such nonsense. Brian was always so attached to me. I think he was obsessed with me or something, from the way he acted."

"Obsessed? Geez, that sounds unnerving." I shake my head. "I hear rumors about pretty girls having a lot of stalkers in this game, but I haven't actually seen it so far."

"You calling me a pretty girl?" She looks back at me, her eyes bright and a smile on her face. I start to respond, realizing my accidental slip of the tongue, but find my words aren't forthcoming. "Hah, it's okay. You're quite good-looking yourself."

I try to find something to say but finally give up. We were almost to our destination anyway. Sierra stops at the end of the bridge leading towards castle, an odd look on her face. Her hand strokes the stone of the bridge, her eyes turned towards the sky. I stop next to her, concerned at the odd behavior.

"What's up, Sierra?" I ask, then I notice that her eyes were watering slightly.

"I want to see a real sky." She says. "I want to feel something real. A person, an object, anything. Just..." She pauses a long while, sniffing. "Nevermind. We should keep going."

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "Is there something you have on your mind?" I ask. She shakes her head.

"It's nothing. Let's just get going." She smiles weakly at me. "We've got a murderer to interrogate."

As we walk into the castle, I can't help but wonder what had been bugging her.

o

"Wonder this time where she's gone," I heard the singing first as we walked down the hallways of the prisons. "Wonder if she's gone to stay." A break, then the voice builds into something more powerful and full. "Ain't no sunshine when she's gone, and this house just ain't no home," Pause. "Anytime she goes away."

"Shut up in there!" The Army man rattled the bars to the man's cage with his dagger. "You've got some visitors."

"Visitors?" The man's voice was low, yet raspy, as if he smoked a lot, but there was a great level of depth to it. "C'mon, Steve-pea, don't you know I ain't got any friends?"

"Stop calling me that, asshole." The guard sighed, then looked at us wearily. "He's a handful, but maybe you'll get what you want out of him. Remember, you've only got an hour in here maximum."

I nodded my consent and the guard walked off to check out the other cells. The prison itself was cold and coal-black, with black iron bars blocking off simple, small rooms, maybe six feet squared. In the back of the cell in front of us sat a man covered mostly in darkness – the light of the candles didn't reach to the back.

"I understand that you're the one responsible for Army Representative Julius' death." I start. He tilts his head to the side. I can't see anything above his mouth. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about that, if you'd allow it."  
"Was that his name? Julius?" The man chuckled, his oddly enrapturing voice wrapping around the walls. "I didn't have a chance t' ask before I slid my sword across 'is throat. Hey, man, I didn't know virtual blood was so red."

"How charming." Sierra said, unamused.

"We want to know who hired you to kill him." I said, deciding not to beat around the bush. "In as much detail as possible, if you would."

"Hmm..." He tilts his head. "That would violate hitman-client, ah, _confidentiality_." He laughs, a slow rhythmic thing. "You folks gonna have to make it worth m' while. _Very _worth m' while." He smiles, and I can see the wide grin before he licks his lips slowly.

"What are we talking here?" I ask.

"Oh, it's simple, man," How could one voice be so interesting to listen to? I shake my head, clearing my thoughts of it. "One-hundred tha-_housand_ Col."

"Do you even have an inventory right now? How would you know if we actually gave you the money?" Sierra asks, and the man laughs.

"You ain't never been t' prison, have ya, girl?" That smile again. "All y' gotta do is trade me th' money, and it automatically goes in my account. When'm released I get it _all_ back again."

"100,000 Col is quite the price." I state. I had enough to pay him, but only barely. It was practically all the money I had saved up from fighting on the front lines.

"I can pay it." Sierra says quickly, "I got more than enough. Don't worry about it, Cyril."  
"You sure?"

"Yeah." She turns back to the prisoner, opening her trade menu. The prisoner does the same. They complete the trade quickly, and Sierra looks at him expectantly. "Well? What do you know?"

"Suddenly," The smile widens. "I feel like 'm fifty-thousand short, somehow. How 'bout the cute little girl corrects said problem? How 'bout it?"  
Sierra glares at him, but opens the trade menu. When the trade completes for the second time, two thoughts pop into my head. _He'd better stop demanding money. Sierra may just be encouraging him. _The second was less prominent. _How much money does she have, anyway?_

"Alrighty then," A laugh. "Yer bank prob'ly ain't so large as t' supply me with any mo' sweet, _sweet_ golden satisfaction anyway, so let's get talkin'."

"What do you know?" I ask, and the smile disappears.

"Never did see the face o' the man who hired me, covered 'n a great black cloak 'n all." The man chuckled. "Seemed so dramatic, he did. Like a fuckin' movie!" He laughed, rolling his legs up and clapping his hands once, then suddenly he turned serious. "Said he had a job fer me. Gotta kill a man who didn' wanna die."

"Few people do." I comment, but the prisoner snickers.

"This one 'specially. Apparently m' wonderful employer already hired a hitman, but the attack failed." Sierra seemed surprised by this.

"Failed?" She asks.

"Yeah, failed. The assassin got away with Julius's key, but not with his life." The prisoner cackled again. "Prob'ly caused no end of, ah, whatsit called... _consternation_. Yeah, that's it. Unsafe house and all that."

"Why hire you if the first hitman could have just finished the job?" I asked, but I figured I already knew the answer.

"Failure is not, ah, tolerated by my most illustrious employer, though even _that_ is irrelevant." Sierra rolls her eyes, not amused by the prisoner. "He got slaughtered by monsters, his items taken by some mysterious swordsman in black."

"And the key?"

"Returned to th' Army, but my employer has his hands _everywhere_."

"So eventually Christian wormed the key through to that messenger instead of Julius," Sierra stated, nodding, "And I picked it up from the messenger."

"Why go through all that effort?" I ask, but Sierra just shakes her head, not knowing. "Prisoner," I say, and the smile reappears. "Is there anything else you can tell us about the murder or the man in black?"

"You tryin' to take out my employer?" The voice was suddenly cold, and the smile disappeared. "You'd best be in for a wild ride, kiddo. This man's not right in th' head. Got some screw loose, or somethin'. Religious nut, maybe. Either way, he's bad news. Dangerous. Psycho."

"I don't care about the danger," I say. I didn't admit that I was actually quite nervous about confronting Christian again. "Just point me in the man's direction. Identity? Affiliations? Anything?"

"Nothing' else t' say, kiddo." He paused, but then continued. "'Ceptin one thing, yeah. He kept talkin' of resurrection, and that th' Army was his plaything. Kinda mad rantin' if ya tell me. Think he was tryin' to intimidate me. _Me. ME!_"

The prisoner stood suddenly, lunging for the prison bars. He gripped them tight, pressing his face between the gap, close to mine. I finally saw the entirety of his face, illuminated in the candle light. His brown eyes were wide, crazed, yellowed teeth bared, lips curled back as far as humanly possible. I flinched from his surprising lunge, and the man backed away slowly, howling in laughter before hitting the wall in the back. He became suddenly somber as I lost sight of his upper body. Though I couldn't see his eyes, I could feel him staring at me. _Into _me.

"Y' walk a dangerous road, kiddo." He says, low and primal and cold. "I c'n see it all 'n front of y' now. Th' descent into hell. Walk carefully."

I thank him and we start to walk away, though I couldn't help but feel shaken by the conversation. I can hear his voice for a long while as I climb the stairs out of the prison, his singing echoing loudly off the walls.

"The days are bright and filled with pain," He sings. "Enclose me in your gentle rain." Laughter. "The time you ran was too insane. We'll meet again, we'll meet again."

o

**September**** 3****, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

The sun was not visible, somewhere above Aincrad's top floor, and I could see the expected crowd starting to gather. The snow was starting to melt, and none was falling, surprisingly. I had expected the cold to continue into today, but it was warm and clear. I could even see the floor supports off in the distance, massive steel-gray cylinders connecting each floor. John stood a short distance away from me, ensuring that we weren't construed as being together. Sierra, on the other hand, sat right next to me on the steps to the teleport platform. It was nearing time for the duel I had scheduled the day before. Though I was well-rested and prepared, I couldn't shake a hint of being nervous.

"Tell Argo that I appreciate her understanding in dealing with this job." I say to the kid talking to me, who nods. "I expect that the stalker will be well-informed, correct?"

"Indeed." He says quickly.

"And he is affiliated with the necessary parties?"

"Who do you think you're dealing with?" The kid cracked a cocky smile. "This is gonna be an expensive job, though, especially because Argo doesn't like you."

"I can handle expensive. Get out of here." The kid scrambled away and I absentmindedly gazed after him as I waited. Luckily, the wait wasn't too unbearable, and it wasn't long before I saw the party of people I was waiting her for.

Asuna walked in front, with Heathcliff to her side. A few other KoB members walked behind them. Guards, I guess. The KoB was notorious for being overly protective of their leaders. The crowd that was milling about began whispering amongst themselves. John played his part well, talking to various groups of people, explaining what was going to be happening.

"Assassin!" Asuna stopped about a hundred feet in front of me, shouting. Immediately she captured the crowd's attention. "I'm here, just as you demanded! Are you truly prepared for this?"

"You face the great Asuna the Flash, fool!" One of the assholes from within the group of KoB soldiers shouted. "It is purely the result of her generous nature that she even _gives_ you this chance to fight her fairly!"

I roll my eyes. Who the hell was this clown? "Wonderful." I say, quiet in comparison to Asuna and her fool. "Let's get this over with."

The crowd grows as more front-liners come to watch the spectacle. Some were murmuring, making bets or otherwise paying attention. I open my menu and send a duel request to Asuna.

The type? To the death.

I see her hesitate, just for a second, before accepting. Nobody else seemed to notice. Sierra patted me once on the back before walking into the crowd. I can see John paying rapt attention to what was unfolding.

In the middle of me and Asuna, words appeared in the air, announcing the duel and displaying a countdown. I draw my bow and nock an arrow; across the gap I see Asuna draw her rapier. A few seconds later the clock hits zero and the duel starts.

My first surprise was Asuna's speed. In the first few moments of the fight I activated my Multi-Shot skill, letting loose several arrows in a blinding blue flourish, but Asuna ducked and weaved around all but one of them. The one that did score a hit merely grazed her outer right thigh. Amazed by the spectacle, the crowd cheered.

I let loose a few more arrows, but score no significant hits before she closes in on me. I toss my bow away, letting the system auto-return it to my back, and draw my dual daggers, waiting as I let the Flash close in on me.

Using two daggers, I was at both an advantage and disadvantage. Dual Daggers was an Extra Skill awarded to dagger users at a random level, much like the katana Extra Skill was for saber users. However, while the Dual Daggers skill was incredibly fast and had large damage multipliers for sneak attacks, it lacked in physical power and defense. My Martial Arts skill usually helped greatly in mitigating that weakness, but I was much slower with my fists.

Asuna stabbed at me and I parried her blade to my right. I kept my body moving in the same direction, anticipating her roundhouse kick as she spun way from the parry. I lowered my head just in time, her leg passing less than an inch away, and fell into a roll. I activated my Item Throwing skill, aiming for her torso as she touched her foot down.

Before she grounded herself, I threw the dagger, bounding up from my crouched position towards her. She saw my dagger and pivoted to her left, but not fast enough to completely avoid my dagger. With her attention drawn away from me, she didn't notice as I barreled into her, tackling her. For a split second I wished the system would let me to tackle with my dagger stabbing as I hit her, but I didn't have a high enough Martial Arts skill level to allow that. I realized a moment later as we both fell forwards, me on top of her, that skill have killed her if I could have done it.

I feel her back impact the ground and she rolled her lower body upwards, kicking my stomach with both her feet. I go with the kick, rolling off of her, scrambling to my feet just as she got to hers, my second dagger back in my hands.

All of this happened in the course of a few seconds, and as we both started circling around each other again, the crowd fell silent, entranced.

"Not bad, Asuna." I say, glancing at my health. I had lost maybe an eighth.

"And you're better than I thought as well, Reaper." Asuna smiled grimly. She had lost about a quarter of her health – most of it from my thrown dagger and the tackle. For the moment, at least, I was winning.

"Reaper? Did she say the Reaper?" I heard someone in the crowd behind me say, and a moment later their trance was broken. The crowd started breaking out in confused, urgent whispering.

"Like, _the _Reaper? The one from all those rumors?"

"Isn't he a baby killer or something?"

"There aren't any babies in this game, dumbass."

"It's kinda hard to be an assassin if everyone recognizes me." I smile, directing my speech to Asuna. "Know what I mean?"

"Not really, no." Asuna replied, and she lunged towards me. I jumped back, outside the range of her stab, but had to extend my pelvis out behind me to fully avoid it. A millisecond later I realize my mistake, throwing my upper body backwards as fast as I could as Asuna's rapier slashes upwards. I'm not fast enough, so the rapier slashes through my chin, cutting through to just under my left eye. I'm falling so quickly backwards that I extend my hands above my head, doing a handspring and landing, shakily, on my feet a few feet away from Asuna, falling forward onto one of my hands. Virtual blood flows from the long cut on my face, splashing in the mud under me.

"Well, Christ, I certainly can't do that in real life." I chuckle, but the reprieve is short-lived. Asuna charges again, but instead I parry her rapier thrust upwards while ducking under her blade, stabbing at her with my free dagger. She shifts her hips just far enough to avoid a stab, and I can feel her starting to spin away from me.

Leaping forward as far as I could muster, just barely brushing past her torso, I roll and scramble to my feet just as Asuna rights herself. We're both at about even health now. I sheath my daggers and draw my bow, judging the distance to be adequate to get off one shot. Asuna smirks, confident she can evade my bow, most likely. She charges and I loose an arrow, which misses and flies into the crowd behind her. I hear a shriek from someone in the crowd who must have forgotten they can't be harmed in a town. Asuna is too close for an arrow now; I see her rapier glow green as she activates an ability. Now it's my turn to smirk. I know that ability, and I know exactly where it's going to hit.

I spin out of the way of her attack and, using my body's momentum, swing my bow towards her head. Just as her rapier passes into the space where I was a second before, the body of my bow slams into the side of her head. With a vicious and blood-curdling crack, Asuna is knocked sideways, off her feet, into the mud and melting snow. She hits the ground hard; for a moment she's stunned, probably reeling from the impact. I can see virtual blood flowing from a long gash on the side of her head. Soon she starts coughing, struggling to get onto her hands and knees. Her rapier had been knocked away but, because she's impaired, it doesn't return to her side.

Quickly, I walk to her, drawing a dagger and pressing it against her throat. I stand her up, leaning her backwards to keep her off balance, smiling viciously at the crowd, who watched in stunned silence. _The honorable and invincible Asuna the Flash tossed into the dirt. _Her health was just slightly into the red zone now. As Asuna returned to her senses, the rapier reappeared at her hip, but it's useless there now.

"Now, I trust a crowd can follow directions from me, right?" I shout, pressing the dagger deeper against Asuna's neck as I feel her tense up. "Clear a path to the teleport."

"Like hell we will!" One of the KoB members shouts, starting to draw his weapon. Heathcliff holds up an arm, stopping them. Asuna's clan-mates look at him in confusion, but obey, sheathing their weapons. I looked around, but people aren't obeying as fast as I would like.

"I said, _clear a path to the teleport_!" As I shouted they finally obeyed, the crowd moving out of the way as I half-dragged, half-led Asuna towards it. Sierra is waiting for me there, a sly smile on her face.

"Teleport, Ullivyne!" I shout, and the blue fire envelopes the three of us.

"_NO!_" I heard a shout from a familiar voice. John is running towards the platform. He leaps towards it just as I start to feel myself fade away. For a second I'm gone, but then the four of us materialize in the middle of the empty plaza on the 39th floor. John actually made it on time. Immediately I take the dagger off of Asuna's throat.

"Hey, that was pretty convincing, John." Sierra says.

"C'mon, we don't have much time until someone follows!" I say quickly. The three of them, Sierra, John and Asuna, nod their heads in agreement. "We'll wait until we're away to end the duel."

The four of us bolt off the platform, towards the singular exit of the town. Just in time as well, as I can feel the teleport beginning to activate, but we're out of sight before anyone managed to get through.

o

"Shit, I didn't think that plan would actually work!" Sierra laughed. We were some distance away from the town, in a forest, wrapped in a stealth field. "They all probably believe you've kidnapped Asuna, just like you said they would!"

"All that matters is that Argo's creep knows." I say, thinking of the stalker I had Argo ensure had been watching the match, the stalker I had been assured was involved with PoH and the PKers.

"Even so, this plan is a long-shot." Asuna says, eying me. I swear, she never seems to warm up to anybody. "However, PoH is definitely a worthwhile target for such a risk. He's killed countless players." She sighs. "Heathcliff approved of this idea, so I approve as well."

"I'm worried about the logistics of it all." John says, shaking his head. "The four of us against PoH and his crew? Who knows how many guys they have there?"

"We'll have the element of surprise." Sierra states, smiling.

"They can't have more than six or seven," I state, thinking of the size of the caves I had been taken to. "We'll be fine, if all goes well."

"If all goes well." John rolls his eyes.

"I didn't realize you could do that with your bow, Cyril." Asuna says, looking at me. _Is that vaguely a conversation starter? Maybe she's not so hostile after all. _"Despite the duel being a hoax, I honestly wasn't expecting to lose for real. In a real fight, you would have signed my death warrant."

"It's a heavy bow," I explain, smiling. "It's like getting hit in the head with a two-by-four in real life. Wood is really dangerous, yet people never see it coming."

"I'll keep that in mind when I'm dealing with archers in the future." She says. I'm about to respond when, suddenly, an image appears at the edge of my field of view, a flashing mail icon.

"It's here." I say, opening the expected mail in my menu. A message from Seraphim.

_'You captured Asuna instead of killing her? Not what we hired you for, but PoH seems excited nonetheless. Bring her to us.'_

Below that were some map coordinates to meet Seraphim at. I smile at the rest of them as I materialize two black bags and some rope.

"John, Asuna," I smile at them. John rolls his eyes, cursing in annoyance. "It's time to get in costume. We've got a performance to attend."

"Wonderful." John says sarcastically, grabbing his bag.

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – ****1****st ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

As I'm running my hands along the stone wall lining the bridge, I wince in pain as my finger nicks a piece of stone sticking out. I lift it to my face, examining the virtual blood oozing slowly out of the cut. Also flowing out of the cut were faint, translucent red parallelograms, floating into the air. The size of them seemed to depend on the size of the wound. The prisoner was right. Virtual blood was very red after all.

"Hold up, Sierra." I grab her arm lightly when we reach the middle of the bridge outside the castle. "There's something I want to ask you."

"What's up?" She asks lightly.

"Just before we went inside the castle, you seemed bothered by something." I state, and Sierra shrugs.

"I would think it's more surprising at this point if I wasn't bothered by anything." She smiles slightly, walking to the stone wall lining the bridge, leaning out over it. "My brother is a murderer and is missing, my boss turns out to be some lunatic that hires hitmen and I'm running around with a guy I just met, letting down my guard enough even to sleep in the same room with him."

I walk next to her, looking over the water. "I imagine things must seem pretty crazy for you." I look at her and smile. "But don't worry, we'll figure everything out."

"Things are just moving so quickly. I don't know how I should be acting." Sierra shakes her head. "I mean, especially with you."

"Why?"

"Well, because, I-" She stops herself, thinking. "I'm not sure why. I guess because you're a stranger, but it doesn't feel like you are. Or something like that."  
"So... we're friends?" I smile.

"Yeah." She smiles too, but then suddenly shakes her head. "I'm sorry, I need to clear my head." She starts to walk away.

"Wait!" I say. She turns. I realize I had called her out of impulse, and didn't actually have anything at mind to say to her. Quickly, I mentally scramble for something, but what I wind up saying actually feels quite natural. "Why don't you join the Vanguard?"

Her eyes widen slightly with surprise, but then she smiles and nods her head. "Sure. Why not?"

I send her a clan invite (which is within my permissions as a vice-commander of Vanguard). She accepts. A small congratulatory notice appeared for both of us and she smiles.

"Listen, Cyril, I want to tell you something." She turns serious, walking towards me. "Since I met you yesterday, there's been this thought bugging me. It's kinda the reason I keep ignoring Brian's messages, you know?" I shake my head. She's only a foot away, now. "Of course you don't. I haven't told you yet. Anyway, I really-"

"CYRIL! SIERRA!" Frantic shouting interrupts us. We turn to see Azaj running towards us at full speed, his face red with the effort, his golden hair standing at attention in the wind. He stops in front of us, gasping for breath, despite the fact that people don't get fatigued from running in this game.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Sierra asks. In spite of the surprise, I couldn't help but be amused by the distance Sierra had immediately given between me and her when she saw Azaj.

"It's Saul!" Azaj says, grabbing my coat. "He's back and he was arguing with John about something when I met up with him and then they started fighting and John was really mad and Saul was laughing and, and, and-"

"Hold it, Azaj," I cover his mouth, shutting him up. "Where were they?"

"The front lines!" Azaj blurts out when I let my hand off his mouth.

"Then we should hurry!" I say, and we're off.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Review responses are at the end of chapter 9, for convenience's sake. Anyways, I decided to release two chapters at once this time around, since I got both of these done unusually fast. It's partly because chapter 8 and 9 were originally one, single chapter, but it got way too long, so I split it in two. That's why those last two chapters were kinda lacking in action and was simply build up. Sorry about that. Anyways, please, please, please review. I desperately need some sort of input from my readers, even if it's criticism. Believe me, criticism is important.

Thank you for reading!

**Edit:**

Forgot to mention something. I recently did a major edit to all of my chapters, replacing literally every single one with updated versions of themselves. This was done because I made a serious, serious error in regards to my dates (they were WAYYYY off, but are now okay). However, I decided to clean things up a bit too while I was at it. If you notice any more problems, let me know.

**Edit 2:**

I figured I'd mention this while I had the chance. I based Azaj's appearance off of Ducker, the blonde kid who was a part of the Black Cats of the Full Moon, Kirito's first clan. I don't know why, but that kid's appearance just kept popping into my head when I was originally thinking up Azaj's concept. However, it is worth noting that Azaj has Egyptian features as well.

**Edit 3:**

In light of Catsy's review, I've made several changes to my story in order to maintain canon. These changes are contained in the chapters 1, 7, 9 and 10. For chapter 1, I've reworded a conversation between Asuna and Cyril in order to make Asuna more sympathetic and less of a bitch. For chapters 7, 9 and 10, I've edited out any reference to reading a person's username from under their health bar. I had previously thought that was possible but it is, apparently, not. The biggest change is in chapter 7, where I actually extended the conversation between Brian, Sierra and Cyril in order to enable an extra circumstance, allowing Cyril to learn Brian's embarrassing username regardless.


	11. Obsession

** February 3, 2023 – 1st Floor – 69 Days before the April Incident:**

"Wait!" I feel Sierra grab my arm just before I start walking up the stairs to the teleport. Starting City was one of the few floors with a significantly elevated teleport platform. I turn, as does Azaj further up. "Before we go to the front lines, I gotta do something. Can John wait for a little while?"

"Well, I suppose..." Azaj says uncertainly. "I mean, it's not like anyone's _dying _or something."

"Sorry, I'll try to keep this brief." Sierra smiles apologetically, then opens her menu. I see her type something out, sigh, then sends it somewhere. Immediately she folds her arms and I can tell she's uncomfortable about something. I walk to her, standing next to her so that our arms were just barely touching, and I feel her relax ever so slightly.

A few minutes pass without incident, but it wasn't long before I finally see why Sierra was so uncertain. Running up the main road towards us – at full speed; I can expect nothing less from him – is S3xyb34ST. Considering the size of Starting City, it is still a few moments before the guy actually gets to us, but I'm impressed by the speed nonetheless.

"Sierra!" He says, coming to a stop, grinning profusely. It seems, just for a moment, that he won't get mad at me being there, but then he glares in my direction. He points at me, an unamused expression on his face. "What the hell is _he _doing here?"

"Oh, don't mind me." I position my hands behind the back of my head, looking everywhere except at him. "Just act like I'm not here. It'll be just like normal, right?"

Angry, his gaze lingers on me for a moment before turning to Sierra, his expression instantly changing to that of a puppy that was just kicked. "Sierra, why haven't you answered any of my messages? I've been so worried, especially since you were running around with this-" He gestures at me yet again, his hand quivering dramatically, "this cretin!"

"Oh, that's clever." I sigh, shaking my head, and walk to the stairs. Azaj is already sitting there, so I plant myself beside him. Brian immediately seems to forget I exist, pouring all of his attention onto Sierra.

"I've missed you so much, Sierra." Brian says, "I was so happy that you finally messaged me back. I mean, I knew you would eventually. There's no way you wouldn't."

"Brian, you didn't need to send me all those messages." Sierra says. She looks incredibly uncomfortable around him, and part of me wants to get up and help her, but I figure that interacting with Brian will only cause more problems. "I mean, how many was it? A hundred? A hundred and fifty? We've been apart all of a day."

"I sent four hundred and seventy-eight messages, Sierra. And it's been seventeen hours and twenty six minutes since we parted as of the last time I checked my clock." Brian states quickly, with a sort of pride that practically makes me fall over backwards.

"He's craaaazyyyyy." Azaj comments under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. I nod my head in agreement, watching with a mixture of mild amusement and concern as Brian continues.

"That averages out to about a message every two minutes, Sierra." His eyes are practically watering now. "That's how much I _care _about you!"

"Listen, Brian-" Sierra starts, but Brian cuts her off.

"I can't let my woman wander off, after all."

"I just want to-"

"How could I know you were safe without me to protect you? It's been so heart-wrenching!"

"Brian, I-"

"But you need to listen to me. What I have to tell you is more important than anything else."

"I don't-"

"It's like I'm forgiving you, right? I know that's what you want."

"Hey, I'm-"

"I love you!"

"What?" If it was possible for a group of people to collectively feel the same amount of complete and utter surprise simultaneously, then that is what just happened to me, Sierra and Azaj. We were all equally stunned, unable to react.

"No, no, don't speak. I know it's hard to handle a love as powerful as mine." If it was possible for me to equally be incredibly entertained _and _worried, that would be me at this moment. Brian's entire pattern of speech was baffling. Sierra seemed to be having a difficult time responding to this as well. Her mouth moved awkwardly, as if trying to form words but failing. "Oh, didn't you know, Sierra? I had thought it obvious this entire time, but I am absolutely devoted to you! There's nothing else I think of, no woman I even consider aside from you." Sierra starts to speak again, but Brian puts a finger from his right hand to her lips, shushing her. She flinches. "No, there's no need to be jealous, really. You are my entire world."

He pauses, looking proud of himself, as if he had accomplished some great feat. Sierra looks down at his finger once, then back at him, then her expression contorts in anger. She quickly swipes at his hand, grabbing it and bending the offending finger back further than it was meant to go. Brian squeals in protest, a high and girlish sound. Sierra pulls him close, and I can see the finger seems ready to break. Mere inches from his face, Sierra gives him a cold glare as his mouth hangs open in confused pain.

"No, no, don't speak. It's my turn now, asshole." Sierra says, giving another push on his hand and eliciting another squeak. "I called you here as a god damn courtesy, to let you know I was going to be gone for a while. You know, that's what human beings do." Another squeeze, another whimper. "Because prior to this conversation, I afforded you the respect that equals should give to one another. However, I didn't realize exactly how much of a pathetic," Squeeze. "human," Squeal. "being," More whimpering. "you are."

She lets him go and he falls backwards onto his ass, cradling his right hand in his left, a shocked expression painted on his face. I'm still watching, outwardly impassive but inwardly reeling. Azaj had started mimicking eating popcorn.

"If that wasn't enough for you," Sierra continues, "Then feel free to react with pain and anguish as I remove you from my life. We're no longer friends, or even partners, or even _associates_. For the foreseeable future I'm going to be traveling with Cyril, and I will _not _be dealing with you." She gestures to me. Brian glances at me, a look of complete abandonment on his face. "So goodbye and good riddance, Brian."

Sierra turns away from him and starts walking towards us. Behind her, Brian gets to his feet, finally collecting himself. I gesture at Brian, and Sierra turns back to him.

"_He _did this to you!" He shouts, pointing at me. Oh, wonderful. Rage. Yeah, that's rage. "He's corrupting you, Sierra! Can't you see!?" I stand up now that he's directly addressing me, walking next to Sierra. "I mean, can you not see how you've changed this last day!? You've been hanging around with him non-stop. You slept-" He pauses, shaking his head as tears start coming out of his eyes. "You slept in the same room as him! God knows what you two did in there _alone!_" This thought alone seems to infuriate him the most.

"How does he know you two slept together?" Azaj called from behind us. I turn around quickly and shake my head at him, trying to quickly correct the misunderstanding.

"No, Azaj, we didn't-"

"I mean, how does he know you were together?" Azaj interrupts. "Is he a stalker?"

"You two _SLEPT TOGETHER_!?" Brian's voice seemed to jump a few octaves. I look around us nervously as people were started to watch our exchange, mumbling amongst themselves. A few people snickered, while others seemed concerned.

"Brian, hey," I start, apologetically holding my arms out to him, trying to calm him down. "Why don't we all just cool down and try to correct our misunderstandings, okay?"  
"What misunderstandings?" He shoots back at me. "You stole her! You stole _MY _woman! You _corrupted _her! With your coolness and your mysteriousness and charm! You _seduced _her! She was _mine_! _MINE_!"

"I'm sure if we just sat down at a restaurant and talked we could-" I start to say, but Sierra cuts me off.

"Hey!" Sierra snaps at him, and Brian's attention instantly reverts to her. "Yeah, pay attention to this, dick."

And, before I can react, Sierra grabs my arm, spinning me towards her and kissing me. As she wraps her arms around me, her chest pressing into mine, I can't really react much. She breaks, opening her eyes and smiling at me. I look over at Brian, who seems stunned, dumbfounded.

"Now, before you go off on another little rant, _S3xyb34ST_," Sierra says to him, venom in her voice. "You can't just claim me for your own. I'm not a possession. If I belong to anyone," She sticks her thumb out at me. "It's him. Definitely not you. _Never _you. And for the record," A pause. "I can sleep with whomever I fucking please. C'mon, Cyril."

She starts dragging me back to the teleporter, and I have no choice but to follow. I look back apologetically at Brian as we ascend the staircase up to the teleporter. He still seems frozen even as the blue fire starts to surround us.

"I'm sorry!" I call out to him futilely. A moment later we were gone.

o

**September**** 3****, ****2023**** – 39****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

The meeting place is somewhere northwest of the town of Ullivyne, a short distance from the dungeon. I push Asuna onto her knees in front of Seraphim just as Sierra does the same to John. They remove the black bags. Seraphim looks down at the two captured players, emotionless. He draws his blade, lifting Asuna's chin with it. To her credit, the stare she gives Seraphim could boil water. Then he turns his attention to John and scowls.

"He was not part of the arrangement." Seraphim says slowly. I can see conflicting emotions crossing his face. Behind him, the two PKers who are accompanying Seraphim start smiling viciously. I notice they're the same goon squad who were with Seraphim during the deal with Saul. The Laughing Man and the other, nameless one.

"That's good then, eh boss?" The Laughing Man cackles. "A nice little pre-show snack, right? And he's got another pretty little bird for us too." He stares at Sierra, looking her up and down, lasciviously lingering over certain parts of her body. Sierra instinctively shifts backwards a step, obviously disgusted.

"Sierra isn't being offered to PoH." I state to the Laughing Man. "So tear your disgusting gaze away from her, pig." The Laughing Man's smile vanishes and he glares at me, cold anger bubbling just under the surface.

"You bring two people not agreed upon, Cyril." Seraphim states slowly. "PoH may be interested in an extra head to claim," He gestures at John, who remains silent, then at Sierra. "But she is just another witness. What reason do you have for this?"

"I'm his partner." Sierra says simply, not flinching away from Seraphim's gaze. "What, do you think you're scary since you're number two on the PK list?"

Seraphim says nothing for a long while and merely stares at her. After an uncomfortable pause, he speaks. "I am no longer number two. PoH has been having... fun, lately. He surpassed me this morning."

"Yeah, well, that's nice." She folds her arms. Behind Seraphim, the Laughing Man cackles, loud and offending. "Now, are you going to take us to PoH or not?"  
"Fine." Seraphim curls his lip. "But do not blame me if he does not let you live."

o

This time, for some reason, they didn't put the black bags over my head on the way to PoH's lair. Asuna and John walk in grim silence, as I suppose they would have been if they were really being taken to their execution. The Laughing Man kept glancing at both Asuna and Sierra, though as Asuna couldn't see him, only Sierra reacted, snapping at him or insulting him until he gave up.

The walk was only about an hour, I think, though most of it was uphill, so not much distance was actually covered. As I look back behind me, I can see that we were climbing the sole 'mountain' on this floor. Of course, it wasn't truly the size of a real mountain, but the game was very good at faking it.

Eventually we reached a small trap door hidden in the rocky mountainside. A man in black guarded it, a greatsword on his back.

"PoH expects us." Seraphim says simply. The man nods.

"Of course, Mourning Star." He opens the door, letting us inside. As I expected, the caves weren't actually very large. The Laughing Man runs ahead, cackling about something or other. I suppress the urge to drive my dagger into his face as he passes by.

_Not yet._

By the time we reach the throne room, PoH, XaXa and Johnny Black were already waiting for us. XaXa, the more lean of PoH's goons, smiles evilly at us as we entered. Johnny Black simply stands there, uncaring. PoH's expression is not as easily read.

"I admit, this is unexpected." PoH states, licking his lips ever so slightly. He hadn't bothered with the hood this time around. "To bring not just Asuna, but another sacrifice for me. And _her_." He gestures to Sierra. "She's quite the prize. I'm almost... jealous."

"She's not here for the deal, PoH," I state. Seraphim walks by Asuna and John, removing the black bags from their heads. John's shoulder-length brown hair gets tussled by the motion, and he casts a few gazes around the room as his eyes adjust to the new-found light. Asuna is more dignified, staring right at PoH nearly as soon as the bag is removed.

"More meat!" XaXa cackles. "You can cement your place as number two, boss! Number two!"

"The second is the first loser." PoH's lips curl in disgust. "I will be the first, the best. I just need a few more kills, I'm certain of it."

"My job is done." I state. "Release Eri."

"No." PoH's smile disappears, and he looks at me with hungry eyes. "I still want the Godstone. I still want _Christian_. To see that pretty girl of yours again means Christian's head on a pyke."

"That's really too bad." I shake my head, walking to the middle of Asuna and John. "It really is." And before PoH can react, I duck down, drawing my daggers and slicing the bonds on Asuna and John. They leap to their feet, and Sierra already has her menu open. She materializes Asuna's rapier and John's staff from her inventory, tossing them to the freed prisoners.

PoH backs away a step, his smirk gone.

"That's right," I smirk. "Payback."

o

**February 3, ****2023**** – 1****2****th ****Floor**** – ****69 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

Afternoon has come in full force on the twelfth floor, the new front line. Seemingly gale-force winds greet us immediately as we step off the platform, nearly knocking me off of my feet. To escape the wind, we run to the cover of a nearby building. I look around, noticing the streets are nearly devoid of people.

"Wow!" Azaj says as soon as we're in cover, looking at Sierra. "I didn't realize you were so much of a badass!"

"Hey, Azaj," I turn my attention to him. "Watch the language."

"But I'm a free person!" Azaj argues, "Freedom of speech, right, Sierra?"

"That's right, kiddo," Sierra grins at him, and I roll my eyes. "You can say whatever the hell you want."

"Hey, Sierra," I look down the alleyway extending away from us. I motion for Sierra to follow as Azaj bounds along ahead of us, checking out every side passage that he sees. "What was all that back there? I mean, you seemed pretty pissed." I pause, briefly embarrassed as I remember it. "And, uh, you kissed me."

Sierra sighs, burying her hands in her pockets. "It was impulsive. Now that I think about it, I probably shouldn't have acted that way. I mean," I can't really read her expression, but then she continues in a mocking tone of her own voice. "'I can sleep with whomever I fucking please.'" She sighs. "Who the hell says that?"

"You, apparently." I smirk.

"I'm sorry about kissing you." Her face had turned a bit red. "I probably should have given you some sort of heads up or something before I did it. Brian probably despises you now."

"He didn't hate me before?" I chuckle, "But really, though, it's fine. I didn't mind."

"Hey, you better stop flirting with me." She grins at me. "Or I'm going to start thinking about kissing you again."

"Next time make sure you aren't pissing someone off by doing it." I grin back.

"Hey!" Azaj calls from ahead, about a hundred feet up. "Over here!" Me and Sierra both start jogging towards him, and I realize something about the town. Rather than being a wide-open space with streets and buildings and whatnot, the bulk of the town seemed to be of buildings enclosing thin alleyways. I glance above me and figure that the gale-force winds must have been designed to complement that feature.

My suspicions are confirmed when I see what Azaj is pointing at. A staircase leading into the ground, into darkness. A tunnel, though to where, I don't know. I can hear the sounds of something leading up from below the ground. People? Fighting? I can't tell.

We follow Azaj into the ground, and my questions are quickly answered. After a mere two flights of stairs, the tunnel opens up into a great, wide space. It had a low ceiling and meager lighting, but despite that I can still see the most surprising aspect of this cavern.

People are milling about, talking, laughing, buying from NPC vendors or otherwise existing in this vast space. It's an entire underground living space, large enough to extend at least to where I thought is the end of the town. Various columns of rock extend down from the ceiling, some with staircases leading up into them.

"Wow. This is... amazing." Sierra says, spinning around. We had emerged out of just one of the many columns. Elsewhere, I see some staircases labeled with names of inns or private residences or other places. "So you access the buildings from below ground. It's incredible. I was wondering why I couldn't find any doors outside."

"Hey, guys, follow me." Azaj says, running around in front of us. "I'll take you to where I know John is." A second later he was gone, bounding around the crowd of people in front of us. He leads us around a few columns of stone, around some NPC venders and finally up a staircase labeled 'The Drunken Lion Inn'.

We emerge inside of a fairly busy inn. The patrons' lack of uniformity seems to suggest this is a general inn, rather than one claimed by a clan. Near the opposite side of the inn from us sits John, drinking something that seemed alcoholic. Azaj runs to him immediately, while Sierra and I take a bit longer. We all sit at the same table as him, and he raises his head in vague acknowledgment before taking a long drink of the beer.

"So we heard that you had a run-in with Saul." I start, and John nods. "Care to talk about it?"

John says nothing for a long time, then raises his head and looks at Sierra, an odd expression on his face. His eyes are bloodshot, and I start wondering exactly how long he has been sitting here drinking. He speaks slowly.

"What exactly are you trying to accomplish here, Sierra?" He asks, his eyes narrow. I'm not sure if it's from some sort of suspicion on John's part, or if it was simply the alcohol. "Who are you trying to fool?"

"I don't understand." Sierra looks at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about?"

"You." John plants the palms of his hands on the table, arcing his back as he pushes the chair out from under him slowly. He stands, albeit slowly and awkwardly. "Saul told me everything, you bitch." To me, "Why the hell did you bring her here!?"  
"Woah, woah," I stand, confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's _her_, man." John points at Sierra, angry. "She's not your friend! Why the hell do you think she's been following you around?"

"What are you accusing me of?" Sierra stands too, an odd mixture of hurt and anger. "Just get it over with and say it!"

"Cyril, she's part of the Resurrectionists!" John says, throwing his arms out. "Saul told me everything he found out while he was gone! He was researching them!"

"I know she is. You were there when she told us!" I state, even more confused than before.

"No, I mean she _still _is!" John shouts. I look around us, expecting some sort of staring from the other patrons, but there's nothing. No reaction. "She's Christian's lapdog! She's just going to bring him to us so he can get rid of us like he did Sebastian!"

"I'm not-" Sierra starts, but she's interrupted by clapping coming from the other side of the inn. We all turn My stomach clenches at I see a familiar face stand from among a crowd of inn patrons. He snaps his fingers and the rest of the people in the Inn start filing out, leaving through the stairs into the ground. Only the few hooded figures at the nearby table remain. Outside, the wind howls loudly, shaking the building. The lights darken slightly as Christian throws his hood back, smiling wickedly. The rest of the people at his table stand as well, their faces not visible. Instinctively I go for my bow, and John for his staff. Sierra doesn't move.

"Congratulations," Christian says to us. "You've figured out I've been watching all of you. How very intelligent of you all."

"Christian!" I growl back at him.

"You people have been so _naughty_," Christian licks his lips, "Researching me behind my back? Talking to my hitman? And you didn't think I'd find out? How silly."

"What the hell are you planning?" I ask, "You've infiltrated the Army and the front lines. You ordered the deaths of Janice and Julius, and you've had Sierra stealing items for you. What is it all for? What do you want?"

"Everything." Christian smiles. "Ascension. A rise to godhood. I want, no, I _demand _nothing less."

"You're insane." John seethes.

"Your opinion is irrelevant." He nods at the cloaked figures standing with him and they start moving towards us. There were six of them, all unarmed, and they form a semicircle around us as they close in.

John swings his staff at the nearest one, but it's easily deflected. A quick disarm and a left hook later, and John's back against the wall, virtual blood streaming from a wound on his face. I nock an arrow and release it into the nearest enemy, but the arrow seems to disappear into the cloak harmlessly. He rushes at me, uppercutting me in my stomach, stunning me. I back up a few steps, raising my head just in time to see an armored boot swing towards my head.

The last thing I hear is Sierra screaming in fear.

o

**September**** 3****, ****2023**** – 39****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

I suppose plans usually work better on paper.

Our element of surprise faded quickly, and we hadn't even managed to kill a single one of them by the time they had their weapons out. John was a quick thinker, latching his staff to the lone doorway to prevent the reinforcements from getting us from behind. However, he's unarmed, so I toss him one of my daggers. He's not proficient with them, but anything was better than nothing.

Seraphim had charged Sierra as soon as he noticed what was going on. Now, she was being pushed into a corner, Seraphim's sword colliding with Sierra's with incredible speed. Asuna sped forward and engaged with both XaXa and Johnny Black, simultaneously avoiding both of their attacks. Finally, with John focused on the Laughing Man, PoH draws his infamous long dagger slowly, licking his lips while he and I circle around each other.

"You going to fight me with that pathetic thing?" PoH motions at the dagger in my hand. The blade was easily half the length of his. His longer reach could cause a great deal of problems for me, but I didn't have a choice.

"Size isn't everything." I smirk, then lunge for him. I swipe downwards, cutting diagonally from his right shoulder. He parries, then jumps back a step as my fist sails in. Slightly off-balance from this, I drop, kicking at his legs as he uselessly stabs above me. It's ineffective, and all he does is reverse the direction of his blade, stabbing down at me. I fall onto my back, dropping my dagger in order to grab his wrists.

"I like it like this," PoH grins at me as he straddles me, his dagger inches away from my face. I push back against his hands as much as I can. His breath is hot on my face. "Nice and _personal_."

_He's breathing on me for the effect._ I think, feeling somewhat distant from this situation despite the knife so close to my face. I watch in muted horror as my wrists start to bend, the dagger jerking slowly downwards.

I thrash my lower body about, but PoH has me locked down. I let out a gasp of shock and fear as the dagger pierces my face, just to the right of my nose. I see my health bar start to diminish, the bar ticking down as the dagger drives deeper.

"I want to feel it," PoH says to me, his face close enough to kiss me. "I want to feel the life ebb out of you. I _need _it."

"You... sick... bastard..." I grunt out. It was no use trying to get away. His strength level had to be much higher than mine. The game calculations were definitely not in my favor. A few futile shoves is all I can muster. The next moment my arms give out.

The dagger drives deep into my face, all the way up to the pommel of the blade. A great cold wraps around my head. My vision flashes red as my health bar starts dropping extremely fast. A few seconds more and I'll be dead.

Dead.

"Cyril!" I hear someone shout, but it seems distant. There's movement all around me, but all I can see is the dagger and PoH's smiling, handsome face. I close my eyes, knowing I can do nothing else.

But a second later I feel a great weight lifted off of me, and the cold sensation enveloping my face ends suddenly. I open my eyes to see the dagger removed, and Asuna stands over me, a grim look on her face. As I scramble to my feet, I see PoH doubled over a few feet away, a light shining out of his stomach. His health was in the red, but I couldn't figure out how. Asuna lunges at him, but PoH falls backwards, then scrambles to his feet towards the door.

"Get him!" I hear from somewhere. Ahead of me, I see Asuna ready to deliver the killing blow, then...

Hesitation. Asuna can't do it, can't end his life. PoH grabs the staff, tearing it away from the door, and rushes out. I see two other black figures follow him, disappearing. I back away from Asuna, not stopping until I hit a wall. I survey my surroundings, seeing John picking up his staff, and Sierra standing over Seraphim, her blade at his throat. That left one unaccounted for, minus the goons outside. That means...

"Asuna! Behind you!" I shout as a dark figure darts towards her. She turns, but isn't fast enough. I see a blade aiming for her neck, a killing blow. I start to run, but I know I can't get there in time. Extending my arm towards the figure, I don't notice the wooden staff arcing towards it until John had driven it deep into the man's face.

The figure falls backwards as John spins the staff again, slamming it onto the man's face again. I see the health bar drop dramatically, hitting zero. I'm just close enough now to see the Laughing Man's face contorted in fear as he shatters.

I collapse onto my knees, exhausted. This was all too close.

Too close.

o

It only took a few minutes to scour the place for any remaining PKers, but it seemed that they disappeared with PoH and his elite two. Sierra stayed with Seraphim after tying him up, guarding him while we searched. Eventually, I find the barred door leading into a familiar, dark hole. I wrest it open and there's Eri, only a few feet away.

"Are you okay?" Asuna rushes to her, helping Eri to her feet. As she's helped out of the prison, she seems disoriented, but otherwise okay.

"Eri, I-" I start towards her, but Eri flinches away from me, her expression turning to anger.

"You!" She wrests herself out of Asuna's arms, "You bastard! What the hell are you doing back here!?"

"Rescuing you," I start, but her expression makes me stop. "Eri, what's wrong?"

"You!" Eri shouts, backing away from me. "You fucking murderer! All that time, I was traveling with the _Reaper_?"

"Eri, I can explain-"

"No, I don't want to hear anything from you, _murderer_." She steps away from me slowly, before turning on her heels and running towards the exit of the caves. I call after her, but to no avail.

She didn't come back.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Review responses are below. I got quite a bit of constructive feedback lately, which makes me very happy. An example of this would be a correction of a mistake I made about Argo's gender. Remember, a response from my readers is very important to me. So please review!

**AmosTheBaka: **I'm glad you enjoyed it! Asuna is planned as being a recurring character from here on out, so you're definitely going to see more of her.

**Catsy: **Not sure what I can say here that wasn't said in our pms. As a result of your two major points, I made changes to chapters 1, 7, 9 and 10. In chapter 1 I made Asuna seem more sympathetic instead of a bitch, and in chapters 7, 9 and 10, I reworked the username problem so that I no longer violated canon. Brian's embarrassing username is found out through different means now. Reviews like yours are very, very helpful! :D

**Guest: **As I state in my response to Eternal Longing's review, I was finding it difficult to make a believable duel where Asuna loses on purpose, so I simply had Cyril win on his own. I know a lot of people would tend to have problems with that, but I view it as fairly necessary. Thanks for the review!

**MysticSuperSaiyanGohan: **I'm sorry you feel that way, but my decision to structure my story with two timelines isn't something I'm going to change. The two are simply too interconnected to separate out into two stories. Personally, I don't feel it causes flow problems at all, but I guess everyone has different opinions.

**Eternal Longing: **Oh dear. This is going to be a long one. This is the same message I sent to you in a PM.**  
**

Ah, Christ. You're right. Argo is a girl. xD For some reason I wrote her down as a guy. I'll fix that.

You've got an interesting point there about Asuna having the fastest reaction time. However, if I'm not mistaken, Kirito made that comment a long time after when my story is taking place. I think I can get away with Asuna not being that quick due to a lack of experience at this point (ten months of playing, rather than two years).

And yeah, I'm biased against OC characters winning against canon ones as well, but I really couldn't figure out a way to make a convincing fight scene that Asuna purposefully loses. I mean, how lame would "Oops, I slipped" be? :/ However, I am determined to ensure that Cyril is not a Mary Sue, so don't worry about him being superior in combat for very long. xD

I'll admit I got a bit carried away with the prisoner scene. I was having so much fun writing it that I probably made it too long. Looking back, I probably should've thrown something in there that moved the plot more.

As for Cyril, his distaste for non-players is extremely important to his character, so it's not something I'm just going to leave unexplained. :P Cyril is probably one of the most troublesome characters to write I have ever created. The difficulty in managing him shows, I think, in the occasional statements people make about how he seems unlikable.

Finally, the solution I've chosen for the tense issues is to stick to present tense from now on. It simply makes for a more active, and thus enjoyable, writing style (at least in my opinion). I may go back and fix the tense issues in previous chapters, but it's an incredible amount of work. For example, I fixed all of chapter 1 and it took hours.

That's all for review responses! Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Please, remember to leave some in the future. xD

**Edit: **Changed the front line from floor 11 to floor 12, as floor 11 is home to Taft, a canon town, and thus conflicts with my description of the area.


	12. Imprisoned

**?, ****2023**** – ? ****Floor**** – ? ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

Darkness permeates everything, it seems. Days of waiting in confusion and anguish melt together. My hands bound, my menu inaccessible, no conceivable method of accessing the time existed, though perhaps a small sliver of my being was grateful for that.

Perhaps this solitude is easier to bear without watching the minutes tick down. Only a vague notion of their passage is notarized within my mind. How many days? Seven? Eight? I suppose it's irrelevant. My hands are numb, a result of them being shackled above my head.

Continuously my thoughts drift backwards, to Christian's ambush, to men in dark cloaks. I had been completely overwhelmed, helpless and overpowered. Thinking of it now, I recall a tree in a hurricane, ripped from its roots and tossed away, useless; like that tree, I was uncomprehending of the sheer destructive force, the pressure of godlike proportions that discarded me.

No illumination reaches me here, no sweet sound of anything. Walls of silence and blackness encroach on me from all sides. Briefly, I consider if I am blind and deaf. I shout, a primal scream that bounces against walls unseen. The sheer joy of simple stimuli propels my outcry longer than intended; seconds pass, minutes, until my voice runs hoarse and my yell turn to fits of coughing.

Time passes.

It isn't long before my stomach growls, then roars. Then comes the pain. Hunger changes the strongest of men, and I am far from strong. Building slowly over days, it is insistent, unbeatable, unbearable. There is no forgetting, no distracting. Each moment becomes agony, each second worse than last.

It is an eternity before a face comes. His head is encircled with light, benevolence painted so splendidly across the caring face. Slowly, he raises his arms to his sides as if crucifixied, head tilted humbly downward.

"Are you ready, my son?" This is a face of terrible beauty, of undeniable power. Of incomparable malevolence.

"Food..." I croak, my dry voice pathetic in comparison.

"I will deliver you." Says he as I gaze upon him with fear and awe.

o

**September**** 3****, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"The Mourning Star," Heathcliff stares at Seraphim unsympathetically. The bound orange player, the third most prolific murderer in SAO, seemed so helpless now. Heathcliff's eyes linger over him a while longer, then turns to us. His expression is unreadable, his body language mute. "I must congratulate all of you for capturing him, even if PoH got away. With this victory, we've struck a major blow against PKers in this game."

I narrow my eyes at him, for some reason feeling angry at Heathcliff. I didn't have a true reason for it, aside from how empty his congratulations seemed, but I couldn't really shake the feeling. Asuna seemed almost proud of herself, though. I realize that any sort of praise from the man must appeal to her greatly.

_What exactly is the dynamic between Asuna and Heathcliff?_ I wonder to myself, _Romantic? Possibly, but I imagine they wouldn't be acting the way they are. She seems too young for him, as well. Simply professional respect? They must have been working together for quite a while now. Heathcliff does, occasionally, let Asuna speak for him. He must trust her, and her him__. _A twinge of annoyance runs through me as I start to question Asuna's real reasons for acquiescing to my plan. _'Heathcliff approved of this idea, so I approve as well.' She had said. How important is his opinion to her, really?_

"-which has, unbelievably, freed up an opening. We could register and finalize it tomorrow." It was just then that I realize Heathcliff had been talking. "What do you think, Cyril?"

"I-" I start to speak, but my voice catches. Embarrassment starts clawing its way up my throat, preventing me from stating anything. How am I supposed to respond when I don't know what he said?

"Wow, you really must have caught him by surprise." Sierra says, walking next to me and interlacing her hand with mine. "That seems like an offer someone would have to sleep on, especially after everything that we just went though. Right, Cyril?" She turns to me expectantly and I nod my head quickly.

"Alright, well, I'll expect an answer later," Heathcliff gives us a thin smile, then motions for the door. "You'd all better get some sleep. A night patrol just left, and I've arranged for you three to take their rooms. There's two of them, so arrange yourselves however you wish."

"What about Seraphim?" I ask, glancing at the man. His hands are bound and he sits cross-legged against the wall, his hair matted and confused, his expression nonexistent. He doesn't even seem to register than his name had just been said.

"We'll keep him locked up and under guard here," Asuna says, "In the morning, we'll prepare to transport him to the Army prisons to await sentencing. Don't worry. We'll take care of everything."

"The Army prisons?" Sierra seems concerned, "But that place is brutal! People go insane in there, and Seraphim likely is going to be there an incredibly long time!"

"It is no more brutal than the pain he inflicted upon his many victims," Heathcliff says, narrowing his eyes. "The man is responsible for at least twenty deaths we can verify, and dozens more we can't. He is a monster."

Sierra tries to speak, but I pull on her arm. She understands, dropping the issue – for now, at least. I close the door on them as Asuna wishes us a good night. John is waiting in the hallway, his hands in the pockets of his armored robes. For some reason, his staff wasn't equipped, which seemed odd, but I didn't question him about it.

"What's wrong, John?" Sierra sees the same thing I do. John was hard at work thinking about some issue. His eyes were red, but from what, I can't tell.

"It's nothing." He says simply, then walks off towards his room.

o

"Why do you do that?" I ask once we're alone in our room together. Sierra looks over at me in and shrugs, then finishes tugging off her gloves. "Isn't it much simpler to unequip your armor instead of taking it off manually? My coat has too many fasteners for me to bother with undoing them all every time I go to sleep."

"Feels more real," Sierra says simply. She sits on the edge of the bed and starts taking off her boots. I'm at the head of the bed, propped against the wall and in my nightclothes, distracting myself from all of my conflicting thoughts about the day by watching her change. Sierra smiles at me, then elaborates. "I guess it just feels more realistic if I actually have to take my clothes off. Unequipping my gear automatically through the menu just forces me to remember that I'm probably lying in a hospital bed somewhere, unresponsive to the rest of the world."

"But you're faced with the fact that this isn't reality every single day." I say.

"I know," She shrugs. "I guess it's just the little things that bug me more."

I fall silent, watching her unfasten her armor._ Sierra has probably put more points into strength than me_, I think, examining her armor and her two blades laying on the bed behind her. Her fighting style was an Extra Skill she had acquired from using her rapier. It utilizes a long, thin blade (the rapier itself), and a much shorter blade with a wide handle. The second weapon wasn't quite a dagger, and has a fairly awkward appearance. I think it's called a main-gauche, and it primarily serves as a defensive weapon. In fact, I've never seen Sierra use it offensively even once. In layman's terms, her fighting style allows for quick stabs and strikes and some extra defense with the parrying blade, at a cost of slower attack speed than with a rapier alone.

The existence of possible dual weapon skills confuses a lot of people – information brokers in particular. The Dual Daggers skill is confirmed to exist, as is the rapier and main-gauche, but people remain mystified as to why a skill as simple as dual longswords hasn't yet been found. A myriad of weapons exist in this game, so rumors have even started circulating about so-called 'awkward' skills, meaning skills using two weapons usually not considered paired. For example, a prominent rumor a few months back was of a person using a javelin and a dagger together.

However, as far as I can tell, Sword Art Online remains true to realistic fighting styles, for the most part. My dual daggers skill seems to be based on Eskrima, a knife-fighting style from the Phillipines, and Sierra's rapier and main-gauche skill is a popular fencing technique.

Sierra unbuckles the front of her leather leg guards, then the other, pulling them off slowly. As the leather slides off, it takes with it the simple black cloth that fits between the leather and her skin, as well as covering her joints. With the bottom portion of her armor off, I can see Sierra's bare legs. She leans back, stretching her legs out in front of her, pointing her feet forward as far as they'll go. After a moment, she sighs.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I keep imagining what my legs look like in real life. They're probably incredibly skinny and gross since they haven't been walked on for ten months." Sierra leans forward, running her hands along her legs and grabbing her toes. She lets her body rock forward, then stands up to start unfastening the top portion of her armor.

Sierra's armor seems oddly designed to me, though it fits her well. It consists of black cloth and brown leather, the leather covering what needs protecting. The black cloth runs everywhere else – along joints, under her arms and whatnot. The gloves are open-handed, with the leather guard extending only up to her knuckles. It covers her from neck down, but clings to her body, as if fitted perfectly. (What else can you expect from female armor in a video game?) In the past I've teased her about how the armor seems to conform to the shape of her body; her response was a quick jab at how SAO was designed for boys and that she'd rather wear unrealistically shapely leather than some of the other equipment you could sometimes find for women.

"I mean, really," I remember her saying, so exasperated, "How the hell can someone protect themselves with a bikini and thong?"

"A _metal _bikini and thong." I had responded to her, which only made her shake her head in disgust. "And don't forget the plate steel gloves and boots!"

Thankfully, this type of armor is rarely seen due to the reservations of SAO's female players; they're only really produced from the imaginations of shady blacksmiths. Most armor native to the game is fairly innocuous.

"There we go." Sierra finally undoes the last strap and the leather armor falls away, leaving only a sleeveless, mid-thigh-length black undershirt – the last piece of her armor, though by itself it's useless, merely meant to make the wearer of the armor more comfortable. Sierra pulls this over her head; soon she's standing in only her underwear.

Underwear is an odd thing in this game, as it is not removable unless you disable the Ethics Code. Players seem, as far as I can tell, though I haven't seen many people in their underwear in this game, to be limited to a simple pair of white boxers for guys and plain, white, non-revealing underwear for girls. Sierra didn't like them.

"I swear to god, I'm reminded of granny-panties every time I see these." Sierra says, looking over her right shoulder. "They're ridiculously chaste."

"They're not granny panties," I chuckle as she runs a finger under the edge of them, near her hip. "They're simple. They cover you, and they're not likely to offend or embarrass anyone wearing them. I think it's a smart design choice." I lower my head and raise an eyebrow at her when her eye catches mine. "Or are you too used to underwear that shows off most of your ass?"

"You know me." Sierra grins, code for _'I'm not telling'_.

A moment later her menu is open and she materializes a white slip into her hands. She slides it on and climbs onto the bed next to me, sitting against the wall with me.

"You complain about not having attractive underwear, then put on completely unremarkable pajamas." I roll my eyes at her. "I don't get women."

"You don't have to." She cuddles up next to me. "And besides, you call this unremarkable?" She tugs at the front of the slip. "This thing is so tiny on me it's stupid. Sure, it's a plain color, but it's hardly long enough to cover my ass."

"I can't see your ass anyway in those panties," I chuckle and she punches me in the arm.

"Jackass."

We sit in silence for a few minutes while I shift through my menu, inspecting some of my items out of habit. In the month or so that have passed since I parted with Sierra last, I have grown fond of simply manipulating my menu to pass the time. It keeps my mind off of events around me.

"Hey, Cyril." Sierra wraps herself around my left arm, her head resting on my chest. "What's been bothering you since we got back?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Don't play dumb. Ever since we found Eri, you've been weird. Distant, like something big is on your mind." She shifts her body so she's lying more on her side than her back. I look down at her and see that what Sierra had said about her slip was true – it was so short that it was already hiked up past her hips. Her underwear was clearly visible.

"There's nothing wrong." I say simply, and I feel Sierra bristle. She gets up, turning herself around and propping herself up so that she's sitting on the bed to the left of my knees.

"Come on, Cyril, something has to be bugging you!" She looks at me pleadingly, and I feel somewhat guilty. "I could tell from the way you were acting when Heathcliff offered the position in the KoB!"

"He _what_?" I shake my head, collecting myself quickly. "I zoned out when he was talking. He offered me a spot in the KoB?"

"Yeah." But her expression had turned a bit sour. "You're trying to tell me that you're perfectly fine, but that you also just happened to stop listening to Heathcliff in the middle of a conversation? What the hell, Cyril?"

"Sierra, I'm just distracted right now. I was thinking about clothes just a second ago, and-" She cuts me off.

"_Clothes?_" She narrows her eyes at me, but then takes a deep breath. After she exhales, she continues, this time softer, but I can tell she's still annoyed. "Cyril, I just want you to open up for once. Remember on the roof of that building? You were talking about April like nothing really had happened! And earlier today, when we rescued Eri, you hardly even seemed phased when she stormed off. Mild surprise from her calling you a murderer? What the hell? What's really going on in your head?"

"Hold on a second, Sierra," I swing my legs over, off the bed, and stand up. My speech is peppered with the anger that was welling up within me, anger from a strong urge to prove she was wrong about me, to prove I don't feel the way I do. I knew I should try to be more neutral, but that didn't seem important at the moment. "You sneaked up on me and kissed me after we'd been separated for a _month_. You've been all flirty and romantic since then. You even decided to room with me tonight, but you can't just randomly waltz right back into my life like that!"

"You didn't seem to be having a problem with me doing all this!" Sierra says, exasperated. "You were sticking your hand up my shirt, for Christ's sake, and watching me change! But, disregarding that, so we were separated for a month. Big deal. You said yourself that it wasn't the end of our relationship, that you just needed to collect your thoughts."

"The reason we separated was because-"

"I know why, Cyril," Sierra stops me. I can tell she's getting worked up. "I knew how much you were going through, how much you were blaming yourself about April, about-" She doesn't say it, thankfully. "And I was fine with that. All I did on that roof was stop by and say hello! Next thing I know you're dragging me along on an adventure like everything is fine again, so what am I supposed to think?"

"Sierra, really, I'm fine!" I extend my arms outwards for emphasis, but some part of me feels like a liar regardless. "I'm okay. I've moved on. I've accepted everything that happened!"

"But that's what I'm scared of." Sierra says suddenly. I flinch with surprise. "I don't want you to feel nothing, to become callous or cynical." She pauses, and I can see her eyes starting to water, "I don't want you to turn into my brother!"

"I-" I start, but I find that I can't finish. I sit back down on the bed, deflated. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sierra clenching her jaw and looking away to stop herself from crying. "Sierra, I..." I start hesitantly, "I'm sorry. I'm not going to change. I'm still human."

Sierra sniffs, looking at me. I smile faintly at her, brushing the hair out of her eyes. "You sure about that?"

"I promise."

"Well," Sierra shifts herself so that she's leaning on me again. "That means you gotta tell me everything."

"I-"

"Not now, not if you don't want to." She says quietly, "But you gotta tell me at some point. Okay?"

For some reason, it takes a lot out of me just to say okay.

o

**February 18, ****2023**** – 1****st ****Floor**** – 54 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

The first thing I do when they unbind my hands is turn on my time function.

_ Fifteen days. Holy shit. _But in a way I figure I'm lucky. A part of me had feared that I was gone much longer. Even with just fifteen days, it would take a little while of pure grinding to catch up to the level of the current front-liners. Anything longer could have been incredibly damaging.

But, of course, I actually have to find a way to escape first. Two large, cloaked figures are dragging me by my armpits out of my cell – I can tell it's a cell now, as one of them is carrying a lantern. Judging from the look of the place, I deduce it's the prison underneath Black Iron Castle, but a very, very deep part of it. We walk – well, they walk and I fumble about – for at least fifteen minutes before I see any other light source.

Curiously, when we finally do get to the light sources, we're also at the inhabited cells. Presumably, I was all alone down in the dark, which would explain my shouting without anyone answering. Distracted by the influx of new information, my mind drifts slightly, and I find myself thinking about what I'm wearing – a simple reality-styled white shirt and pants. I can't remember changing out of my armor.

My mind shifts back to the image of the man in my cell, whose face was shrouded in light. It must have been a hallucination, but I also note that my stomach didn't still ache so badly with hunger. At some point, I must have eaten, and recently. I didn't remember when it was, exactly, but it couldn't have been more than a day since I saw the vision, so I assume I ate around then. Thinking about it now, the man who came to me resembled Christian, but why would he give me food?

"Hey, you guys wanna drag me a bit more roughly?" I ask, chastising them, but I get no response. "I mean, really, I'm just too comfortable right now." One of the men repositions his hand so that his fingers dig uncomfortably into my armpit. "Thanks," I wince. "Really."

It continues like this for some way. Fifteen minutes, maybe, if I'm doing the math right with the clock in my view. We eventually exit the prison, emerging out onto a bright, grassy field, somewhere in the private back gardens of Black Iron Castle. _This isn't the main entrance to the prisons, _I think casually. They drag me through the flowers and shrubbery towards one of the towers. When we arrive, the door opens for them – I can't tell how – and they drag me inside.

This leg of my journey is particularly painful. Tweedledee and Tweedledum wouldn't let me support my own weight, let alone walk on my own, so my feet kept slamming into the stairs. The stairs themselves were simple: stone steps running along the outer wall of the tower, leading to some room high above.

We reach a door, which is thrown open by one of my harassers. Before I have a chance to react, the two brutes shove me inside. I hit the ground with a notable lack of grace. I get to my feet quickly, turning for the door again just before it slams, but then notice where I am.

It's a fairly lavishly decorated room, meant for some sort of ceremony. There's a pure white altar on the far side, with a handful of rows of benches in between me and it. The room is maybe twenty-five feet across, and a long, pale brown carpet runs down the middle, stopping at the altar. I realize after a few moments I'm in a church.

Sierra stands on the opposite side of the tower, dressed in a long, white gown, with her hands tied behind her back. Brian stands near her, a sword pressed to her throat. He turns to me and his expression melts from confusion into complete, unadulterated rage. I scan the rest of the room, surprised that Brian hasn't already charged me, then notice Christian.

He's dressed in long light-brown robes, a crimson sash hanging from his left shoulder. He smiles sweetly at me and, despite his young age, I get the sudden urge to wring his neck. His long, wavy brown hair has been let down, dancing around his shoulders. Brian stamps his feet, tossing his head like a bull, and I realize the only thing keeping him back is Christian.

"How nice of you to finally join us." Christian says sweetly, extending his arms in a friendly, soothing manner, like one would expect from a Buddhist monk, or an elderly priest. "I was just having a most interesting conversation with Brian and his soon-to-be wife."

"What?" My eyes shift immediately back to Brian, who is now smiling cruelly. It was then that I noticed he was wearing a suit. "What the hell is this all about? Why's that joke of a player here?" I gesture to Brian and turn my head, denying him a chance to notice the fear rising in my gut.

"It's a wedding, can't you see?" Christian says, a smile of perfect contentment plastered on that detestable mug of his. "You were invited, so I had my friends help you arrive on time. It's a wonderful union, after all, a sacred, holy agreement."

"I never agreed to shit!" Sierra yells. Brian's eyes went wide. He brought the back of his free hand around sharply, smacking Sierra across the face. A Harassment Code warning popped up in front of Sierra, but she can't do anything about it with her hands tied.

"Sierra!" I start towards her, but before I take two steps, Christian's voice calls from the side, taunting me.

"No, no, Cyril." I stop, looking at him. "If you attack him now, then Brian gets her _all to himself_." Christian shakes his head. "You wouldn't want poor Sierra _violated_, would you?"

"C'mon, dog," Brian laughs at me. He's pacing now, walking quickly back and forth, his jaw gnashing, "Bite me! Makes this all a bit," He stops by Sierra, stroking her face. She wrenches out of his grip. "Easier."

"Let Sierra go," I say, both to Christian and to Brian. "Don't hurt her."

"She won't come to harm with Brian," Christian states, "Not unless she refuses to do her... matrimonial duty."

"Don't worry, baby," Brian grabs Sierra's face in his hand, "I'll make sure you _enjoy _it." He leans in to kiss her, but Sierra bucks forward, smashing her forehead into Brian's nose. He screams, falling backwards, and Sierra runs to me. But before I can undo her binds, the door behind us swings open. One of the two brutes who had transported me grab hold of Sierra, forcing her away from me. The other clamps down on me, forcing me to stay put.

"Cyril, why don't you listen to what I have to say?" Christian walks to the center of the round room, gesturing at Brian and I. Brian is back on his feet, a primal anger ripping at every fiber of his being, it seems to me.

"I'll fucking kill you!" Brian shouts at me. Christian's gaze seems to hold him back, however.

"Now, let's talk this over like civil men." Christian's expression and tone of voice has remained consistent throughout the entire exchange, I notice. He was in control. He was the puppet-master. Brian was just a tool. "I propose a deal between the two of you."  
"What deal?" I ask. I glance at Sierra, who has given up struggling against the massive cloaked figure silently holding her. A saber hung at his belt, but it was out of Sierra's reach. It didn't seem like she had a chance of escaping the brute.

"Oh, it's simple." Christian states, smiling. "A duel between the two of you, to prove which one deserves Sierra's love and affection more. If you win, Cyril, Sierra is free to go. If Brian wins, Sierra becomes his. There's only one catch." The grin only gets wider. "It's a duel to the death."

I feel my gut wrench, my insides clenching tighter than from any other fear I'd faced in the past. I have no choice but to accept, despite my reservations. I'd never killed another person. The very idea of it seems foreign, detestable.

"Choose now, Cyril," Christian says, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. "If you refuse, Sierra will belong to Brian, and you'll die anyway." He pauses, as if for dramatic effect. "And the last thing you hear will be your beloved screaming in pain and anguish as she is violated again and again and again."

I see Brian lick his lips and I clench my fists, knowing what I have to do, knowing that, above all else, I have to save Sierra.

"I... accept."

o

**September**** 4, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

Sometime after midnight I sneak out of bed – taking care not to wake Sierra, who is sleeping soundly – and make my way downstairs. I have to talk to Seraphim alone, before he's dragged away to the Black Iron Castle dungeons, not to be seen again for a long, long time.

"Look, it's fine, just let me in." I'm waiting impatiently outside of the room where Seraphim is being held captive, trying to talk sense into his guards. "I'm only going to talk. Hell, you can listen if you want, but I'm not going to try anything."

"How can we trust you?" One guard says, his arms folded, not budging in the least. "Just today I saw you dueling to the death with Asuna the Flash."

"Yesterday, moron," The other guard says, "It's past midnight."

_Ah, shit. _"That was a diversion, a strategy I made with Heathcliff in order to fool some PKers," I say, but it feels useless even as I state it. "Just check upstairs and you'll see Asuna alive and well. Heathcliff too. Why would I even be allowed back _in _here if Asuna was dead?"  
"Hey, he kinda makes sense, Captain." The other guard says. I smile at him in appreciation. "Maybe we should do what he wants."  
The Captain mulls it over for a long moment, then reluctantly nods, slowly. "Fine, but we're watching and listening. No funny business."

"Thank you," I sigh as I state it, still somewhat infuriated, but grateful that I can actually see Seraphim. The Captain materializes a key and opens the door, revealing a small, dark room. I'm on the first floor, and the rooms are even more unattractive here than they are on the higher floors, but I guess that doesn't really matter much to a front line clan.

Seraphim sits against the opposite wall, his bleach blonde hair the only real thing I can see of his head. He's in his armor and his arms are tied behind his back. He's harmless the way he is, but I can still feel myself cold from being around him. I glance at the cursor and wonder what exactly the number of people he's killed is. Likely the NPC guards outside are having a fit about an orange player being in town, but as long as he's under the custody of the KoB, they shouldn't try to attack him.

"I figured you'd come, Cyril," Seraphim greets me, his voice raspy. Briefly, I wonder why, but then he continues. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist a conversation. You always did have more curiosity than sense." He looks up, and I can feel those gray eyes searching me. "Where's Sierra?"

"Upstairs, trying to sleep." I tell him, "I'm honestly surprised that Sierra managed to beat you in a fight. I wish I could have seen it, but I was-" I see PoH's dagger flash down towards my head, and I blink, shaking the vision away, "-preoccupied. She mentioned you, you know."

"Both of you, so honorable." Seraphim blinks, then leans his head back until it hits the wall, and he just stays like that, staring up at the ceiling. "I figured it would be better to surrender than risk death. I've never been interested in dying."

"You still risk death," I state simply. Seraphim simply shrugs.

"But then it would be death at the hands of sadistic prison guards, not _her_." He responds. "If I was going to die in any way, I'd want it at the hands of a stranger. I can hope for nothing less."

"If you were so scared of dying, why not simply go back to Starting City?" I ask him, folding my arms. "You could live as a non-player or something. Or maybe join that group of fishermen on the 22nd floor?"

"Non-player, huh?" Seraphim laughs, "Has guilt finally forced your hatred of them out of you? I didn't realize you were so susceptible to the pain of others."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I demand. He doesn't answer and we're silent for a long time. Finally, I decide to ask the question I came here for. "How did you wind up working for PoH? Sierra and I couldn't-"

Suddenly, and without warning, he whips his head down and gazes at me long and hard. "You knew she was going to be in danger! Why did you bring her with you?" His face contorts in rage and he begins to stand. Awkwardly, he manages to get to his feet, but by then the guards had already restrained him. "Why would you put Sierra in danger!?"

"I needed the help," I shoot back at him, "She was someone I could trust."

"So it's become a habit of yours to just throw your friends away, then?" He says, poison oozing from every word. "PoH is a vicious, murderous bastard who wouldn't think twice about killing her!"

"Sierra volunteered!" I counter angrily. "I didn't force her to go!"

"Oh, like she'd deny anything you want from her!" His eyes are wide with fury. "You're her entire god-damned world!"

"You have no right-"

"I can just see it now." Seraphim's lips curled upwards. "It's April all over again. I just _know _it! And you're going to wind up getting her killed, just like-"

"You fucking-" Rage builds within me so fast I can't finished the sentence I started. I rush to him, shouting incomprehensibly. My hands wraps around his throat, shoving him backwards into the wall, suspending him. The two KoB guards back away, bewildered. "You know I didn't have a choice! I didn't mean for-" I swallow, unable to finish the sentence. "And it's not like you can talk either, you murderous son-of-a-bitch. You're the third most prolific PKer now! What happened to _your _fucking honor?"

"Always... the... excuses..." He spits out. The KoB members are pulling me off of Seraphim now, but I barely notice as my hands are forced away from his throat. "So you didn't-" A cough. "Pull the trigger, but you still-" Another cough. "aimed the gun! Just like Christian wanted!"

I'm about to respond, but I stop, figuring it's useless. Collecting myself, I speak, quieter, more controlled, but still laced with anger. "Have fun in prison, Sebastian."

"Yeah," My old friend's eyes bore into mine. "I guess I will."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

The end to another chapter. Before I mention anything else, I just want to make sure of one thing. When Seraphim says "So you didn't pull the trigger, but you still aimed the gun", I'm not actually referring to a real gun. It's just an expression. :P I considered taking it out in case people interpreted it the wrong way, but I kept it anyway. Anyway, on to the review response! (Only one this time, since there was only one review for my last chapter. D:)

**kuntakintae: **Kirito will definitely make an appearance at some point. I had considered having him show up at PoH's hideout after he hears about Asuna being captured, but I figured it wouldn't make sense for him to magically divine where Asuna had been taken when nobody really knew where the hideout was. And I agree that Asuna is a prideful person, though I daresay that losing to Cyril made her respect him more. Also, why the hell are you worrying about your fucking language? I've got worse than "ass" in my story. :P

That's all for review responses. As always, please review! I need to get some sort of feedback from a variety of people. No matter what it is you have to say, I want to hear it.


	13. Murder

**Author's Note:**

Hey there. For a variety of reasons, I decided to do the review responses and whatnot at the beginning of the chapter instead. Don't worry, it's just for this chapter.

Anyways, remember to review!

**kuntakintae: **Well, I personally view Kirito as kind of a Mary Sue, to be honest. The original writer of SAO _really _over-idealized him. He's smart, attractive, amazing at practically everything he does, gets _all _the girls without even trying, and blah blah blah. I'm hoping I can balance Kirito out a bit in my portrayal of him, but yeah, I am definitely going to make sure that he retains his sense of being very powerful. However, I am generally conflicted on how to genuinely portray him without being OOC while also making him less Mary Sue-ish.

The way I view it, Cyril is roughly equal to Asuna (which is why he only beat Asuna by surprising her).

**ronelm2000: **Yeah, yeah, yeah, my typos hurt me too. :P I genuinely don't believe that Heathcliff is being OOC in that particular encounter. He's one of many faces, and definitely one willing to lie and deceive. Also, I justify him being on the frontlines simply because he's only one floor above the current KoB headquarters. Also, it's described that their floor 39 base was incredibly dull and small.

Eskrima just seemed like the natural choice, especially since Cyril is already leaning towards a bit of martial arts. Great minds think alike. xD Dual weapons is a line I was hesitant to cross in this fanfic, but I figured there was no point not to include it, as long as I didn't intrude upon Dual Blades' power.

**AmosTheBaka: **Well, I changed the chapter title to something normal now. You're the only one who commented on it, so kudos to you. :P

**Troublecat101: **Why, thank you! :P A great way to encourage me is to review in the future as well.

That's all for review responses! Please remember to review! :O I need to know what I'm doing wrong.

* * *

_It's another day with just me and Mommy._

_ Brother and Daddy went fishing, so that just left me and Mommy at home. She seems happy, which is good, I think. She and Daddy have been fighting a lot, and last time, about two days ago or something, I even saw someone throw one of the dishes against the wall. I didn't know if it was Mommy or Daddy._

_ Brother kept me in his room with the door shut when it was happening, playing a board game with me. I could tell he was just trying to distract me from what was going on outside. I know he's trying to protect me, but I can't help but see what's right in front of me. Something is wrong with Daddy and Mommy._

_ I think it started a few months ago. Daddy brought home a woman I didn't recognize and was kissing her and stuff. He thought nobody was home, and that I was at my friend Kayla's house, but I went home because she was fighting with me. When I told Mommy what I saw, she got really, really quiet._

_ That's when the problems started._

_ "Honey," Mommy says to me, "Someday, you and I are going to take a long trip, somewhere far away, okay?"_

_ "Where are we going?" I ask. "What about Brother and Daddy?"_

_ "Oh, don't worry about them." Mommy says, smiling sweetly at me. "We don't need boys with us. We've never needed them."_

o

** September**** 4, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"No. I decline your offer to join the KoB." I say, and all present in the room – aside from Asuna and Heathcliff, of course – recoil in surprise. We're on the first floor of the inn, in the main tavern area, where Heathcliff had been waiting for my answer. I had decided overnight I just couldn't do it. "For the foreseeable future, I will be a solo player. Please do not take it as an insult. It's simply my personal preference."

Heathcliff rubs his chin, waiting a long time before speaking. "Very well. But may I ask what your specific reason is?"

"Considering my... history, I do not believe I'd receive the adequate amount of trust from my clan-mates, should I join." I explain, being careful in my wording as to ensure I don't offend anyone. "It would be detrimental and potentially dangerous, and as a front-line clan you need as much guarantee for succeeding in a mission as possible."

"I understand," Heathcliff nods, then smiles amiably. "Well, perhaps you will be more amenable in the future. There will be a spot open for you. You are free to go."  
I nod my head in thanks and turn to leave. Sierra is waiting for me at the door; I'm not sure where John is. He's been acting strange since the night before. When I knocked on his door this morning, the system alerted me that there was no one inside.

"Wait, Cyril!" I turn to see Asuna approaching me, "Could I speak to you in private?"

I can hear a few murmurs and chuckles from the KoB members around us, but Asuna ignores them, so I do as well. Sierra raises an eyebrow, folding her arms but saying nothing.

"Sure." I nod my head, and she leads me outside the room and upstairs. Asuna chooses one of the hallways furthest back from the staircases, stopping me. I speak first. "So what's up?"

She hesitates, looking away for a second, then speaks. "There are a few things I want to talk to you about."

"Like?"

"Well, the first is just a simple inquiry." She looks me in the eye. "Have you ever met a swordsman in a black coat? He's an extremely powerful solo player that I met and I've been wondering about tracking down. I had received some information from our broker that you may have met him."

Immediately I recall an encounter I've put out of my mind, the feeling of a blade at my throat, of a man, no, a mere teenager, shouting at me, at my immorality. In that instant I relive that fear, that certainty of death, but then the sword is lifted. He turns, his black coat catching the light of the fake moon as it spins. A dangerously beautiful sight. He could not kill me. He was no murderer.

Not like me.

"No, I can't say I have." I shrug. Asuna nods, disappointed. I regret not telling her the truth, but I know I can't. The solo player who so easily beat me had made sure I promised not to say anything to anyone about seeing him. He seemed intent on being alone for some reason, as if he was mourning some great loss. I can respect that. "You mentioned you had a few things to ask me?" She looks up at me and continues.

"The second is more... personal." She takes a deep breath. "Are the rumors true about you? What they say about the Reaper? It's important that I know. I mean, from the way I've acted around you in the past, I must have seemed like such an ass, but I guess I'd been caught up in the post-April hysteria."

"What brings this about?" I ask, evading the question.

"I had my doubts about you taking me to ambush PoH, but you pulled through, in the end." Asuna explains. "It made me think that maybe not everything that's been said about you is true. And even though we've had our... disagreements in the past, maybe it's time to put that behind us?"

I look at her, unsure of what to say. "If you're referring to the rumor about me eating babies, then no, that rumor is not true." Asuna chuckles, but I feel myself grow more serious. "But if you are wondering if I've killed people, then the answer is yes. And it was not just one single instance. For a while, it was my job. The Resurrectionists called me the Reaper because when I appeared, it signaled the end of a life."

Asuna's gaze hardens a bit. "Did your targets deserve their deaths? Were they bad people?"

"Does anyone deserve to die?" I ask, and Asuna hesitates a little before shaking her head. "My actions have gotten many people, including people who were dear to me, killed."

"Do you regret it?" Asuna asks quietly.

"There isn't a moment when I don't." I say, clenching my jaw. I think back to Steffana shattering before my very eyes, to Janice. Both times I had been in such shock that I couldn't even begin to mourn them. Instead I felt the compulsive need to figure out _why_ they died. I know it makes me seem emotionless, uncaring, but I can't say that about myself. I cared about them. I mourned them, in my own way.

At this point I become aware of Asuna backing away from me, shaking her head. She had been silent for a while now. Feeling like I said too much, I start to walk away, but before I get very far I feel Asuna's hand grab my arm, pulling me back.

"What will you do?" She says suddenly.

"What?"

"What will you do to make things right?" Her stare is long and determined. I find that I can't match up to it. I look down and away. Asuna was too pure, too moral, too just. For so long I had looked upon her as the sanctimonious type for that, like a priest who feeds the poor for appearance's sake, then washes his hands with disgust afterward.

Now, I see her for what she really is, I think: A truly kindhearted individual, who would help anyone should they need it, who would go to whatever lengths necessary to protect everyone; from those important to her to complete strangers.

Suddenly I feel unworthy even to look at her, let alone have her touch me. I shift my shoulder and she lets go. I keep my back turned away from her, and somehow it's hard for me to keep my composure. My eyes were watering, but my pride is too much to let Asuna see that.

"Cyril?" She asks. There isn't any judgment. Only kindness.

"I still see them. All of them." I say quietly. "And it isn't just the first that stood out to me. I see them all, their faces, their names. Christian kept me busy. I don't say anything about it to anyone, not even Sierra. I can't. How can a murderer be allowed to complain about his guilt?"

"Why did you do it?"

"I had no choice." She didn't immediately respond to this. _She probably thinks I'm a monster._

"There is always a choice," I hear her say finally. "But you can't change the past now. So what will you do to make things right?"

I whisper, "I don't know." Louder, "I don't know! I-"

I stop when I feel Asuna interlace her fingers in mine, pressing against my back. It's not romantic, simply comforting, something that I hadn't expected from Asuna. I stand there, unsure what to do, until she finally lets go, circling around me so that we're facing each other.

"Everyone has the burdens they carry with them," Asuna says, smiling at me for the first time. "God knows, I do. When I first started this game, I was paralyzed with fear, refusing to believe what had happened." She swallows, as if this is difficult to say. "I locked myself in an inn room and just broke down, screaming and throwing things. I became obsessed with finding some loophole to escape, but eventually decided I had to take action. So I hunted, day and night, barely allowing even sleep." She shakes her head. "I'm still that way. I can't rest in this game. Stopping the fight seems like wasted time now. I don't know if I'll ever rest while I'm still alive."

"I... had a similar experience." I start to say. "In the entire first month, I was paralyzed with fear, indecision and delusional hope. I used up all my starting money just for food, like the rest of the non-players, and was nearly driven mad with hunger. It was around this time that I saw the brutality and insanity of some of those people. I saw gangs of non-players preying on others, stealing their money and items or even killing them. I hated it. I hated them all. This hatred drove me to follow Christian willingly, months later, despite the supposed morality I thought I had." I state all this while cringing, but she just smiles back.

"Everyone needs someone to talk to." It seems like common sense when she says it. "Or else you're just going to drive yourself insane."

"Yeah," I admit, "Maybe you're right."

And maybe, just maybe, I feel a little bit better.

o

**February 18, ****2023**** – 1****st ****Floor**** – 54 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

I know I'm disadvantaged before the duel request is even sent to me. I've been out for fifteen days now, and Brian could easily be a higher level than me – it probably isn't extreme, but it would put me at a severe disadvantage. Further, my muscles feel foreign from my inactivity and my mind is fuzzy from the lack of human interaction.

Add all that to the fact that I don't have a weapon and suddenly I'm not feeling too confident. I glance at the handle sticking out from over Brian's shoulder. A maul. I was somewhat familiar with mauls – they were long and powerful two-handed blunt weapons – and their skills, as I had sparred often with John. John's staff skill had a prerequisite of level 100 in two-handed blunt weaponry, so he occasionally used his staff like one. However, a pure blunt user probably had unfamiliar tricks up his sleeve.

"Oh, that's right." Christian said suddenly, laughing. "You'll need a weapon, Cyril. What do you favor?"

"A bow." I say simply, staring at the duel request in front of me. Suddenly a trade request shows up in my field of view. I accept it, and Christian gives me a dagger.

"I'm afraid that's all I have, Cyril." He smiles again, accepting the trade. Grimacing, I do the same. On the other end of the room, Brian changes into his Army combat uniform, a set of massive dark steel armor, impressively large, thick and protective. I look down at my dagger, at my mere clothing, and then back at Brian, feeling woefully inadequate. Brian can see it too, and his mouth – the only part of his face visible in his thick helmet – is stretched wide in a vicious grin.

"No armor?" I look expectantly at Christian, who merely smiles back. "God damn it."

Looking down at the duel request, I see that it's almost timed out. I accept quickly, before I have a chance to think about it. To the side of me I see Sierra biting her lip nervously. We lock eyes for a moment, and I try to give her a reassuring smile. As the countdown begins, I watch the numbers tick down in front of me nervously.

This isn't the first time I've dueled, not by a long shot, but it's the first time where the goal is to actually kill the other person. The extent of my experience is with first-hit duels against the rest of the members of the Vanguard. Normally the faster players win in those kinds of duels, which meant me or Azaj, and as such the rest of the Vanguard stopped bothering with them after a while. Azaj and I had developed a sort of rivalry with the duels, but he usually won against me. He was incredibly quick with his dagger, and once he got in close, I could do nothing with my bow.

I look down at the pathetic little dagger I had been given, wishing I had taken Azaj's advice and leveled a melee weapon skill to compliment my bow. I had some levels in Martial Arts, but I knew it isn't enough. Besides, how can a few punches and kicks tear through Brian's armor?

After a seeming eternity and still not enough time, the clock strikes zero. The duel begins. Neither of us moves at first; all Brian does is draw his maul. It's heavy and mean, with a rough, leather-bound stone handle, topped off with a spiked steel head.

_There's no way he can be quick with a maul that size._ I think to myself, scanning the room for any sort of advantage I can use, but I see nothing. Brian shouts, charging me, his metal armor clanking, the maul raised over his head.

I jump to my right, rolling away from him as the maul comes crashing down. The floor seems to shudder with the impact. I scramble to my feet as Brian raises his weapon again. _So he definitely is slow,_ I reassure myself. _But how can I turn that into an advantage? This dagger can't pierce his armor._

I recall my duels with Saul, who is a slow greatsword wielder. He had switched back and forth between heavy metal armor and leather armor, but I couldn't think of how I would have beaten him when he was in heavy armor.

The maul swings at me horizontally, and I duck, jumping forward onto Brian after it passes over my head. Latched to his left shoulder, I raise my dagger, about to stab at his head, but he throws me off. I roll, getting to my feet again. Brian laughs at me.

"Just give up, Cyril! You can't beat me!" Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sierra still held in place by the massive black-cloaked man, a worried look on her face. "Sierra will be mine to do with as I please!" He licks his lips, seductively and slow. "She'll scream at first, but I'll make her enjoy it. They all do in the end."

Brian shrugs his shoulders and I hear the metal pauldrons click with some effort. Brian's right arm seems stuck in place, but a moment later it's freed, and his shoulder is moving normally again. _Badly designed armor?_ I think, an idea starting to form.

There were four types of armor in this game, though only three can actually be designated as real armor. The types were Heavy Metal, Light Metal, Leather and Clothing. As a general rule, the more defense an armor type gives, the less mobility and speed you are allowed. Brian was wearing Heavy Metal, while I was in Clothing, which gave him a defensive advantage and me a speed advantage. He wouldn't be able to react nearly as fast as I would to changing circumstances.

Like the kink in his armor that sometimes traps his right arm.

It must have been made by a low-level blacksmith, as the game will sometimes factor in structural weaknesses to items made by unskilled workers. It's likely that, simply due to the massive number of armor pieces the Army needs to outfit all 3,000 or so members, some can be faulty.

Luckily for me, it seems Brian's is one of those.

The maul swings at me again. I can't parry the maul directly with a dagger, so I focus on evasion. This time, I dive to the side as it slams into the spot I was at a moment before. The floor tiles give the 'Immortal Object' warning, and I have a split second to charge at Brian. I jump at him, thrusting my dagger just underneath the right pauldron. I hit the ground running towards the black cloaked figure. He brings his other arm around to cover Sierra, as if protecting me from her, but I'm not interested in freeing her. I evade a punch from the man, sliding under his reach and popping up mere inches away from him.

"Thanks for this!" I say, grabbing his saber, then pivoting sharply towards Brian, who was distracted with trying to free the dagger. His right arm was stuck in place, just as I had anticipated. I circle around him slowly, brandishing the saber.

I probably had a lower saber level than dagger level, but it was a higher damage weapon nonetheless. Heavier, too, so I may be able to parry the maul with it. Brian stares at me with hate in his eyes, giving up on his right arm and raising his maul awkwardly with his left.

One-hand wielding two-handed weapons gives the user significant penalties, though I'm unsuer if Brian knows this. He swings at me, but it's slow and I easily parry it with the saber. I twist around the horizontal strike, slamming the pommel into his left hand. He shouts, dropping the maul and recoiling defensively. I don't let him squirm away, however. I tackle him, bearing him to the ground and straddling him. I know I can't hold him there long, as his strength level is probably much higher than mine.

I place the saber against the top portion of his throat, which isn't covered by his armor. It was a high-damage point. One or two cuts and he'd be dead.

"You lose." I say, growling the words. The visor on Brian's helmet is up, his eyes looking into mine, helpless and afraid. He's too petrified by fear to fight back, to even attempt to throw me off of him.

"So finish him." I hear Christian say from the side, a light mirth to his voice. "You have him pinned, a blade against his throat, so why not finish the job?"

"What's the point?" I demand back at him, not risking to look away from Brian. "I defeated him. Why do I have to strike the final blow?"

"A person is only defeated when they are dead." Christian says simply. I glance over at him in shock, but that proves a mistake. Brian thrashes underneath me, throwing me backwards off of him and standing quickly. I shout in surprise as Brian grabs my fallen saber, swinging it in a deadly arc towards my head.

o

**September**** 4, ****2023**** – 40****th ****Floor**** – ****142 ****Days ****after ****the ****April ****Incident:**

"So... what now?" Sierra asks as we exit the inn. We hadn't been able to find John at all, so we had given up and gone outside. The weather is being incredibly indecisive; it's snowing yet again. "Where to now?"

I don't respond. To my left, I watch as Sebastian is escorted by a group of KoB soldiers towards the teleport platform. As they turn, I see Sebastian give Sierra a long stare, and suddenly Sierra goes rigid.

"Why does Seraphim look so... familiar?" She asks quietly. "I could swear for a second he looked just like my brother." Sebastian is being led away now. "Hey, Cyril, what exactly were you and Seraphim talking about last night? I had heard from a guard that you went down there. Apparently it got violent."

"The Mourning Star is your brother, Sierra." I state. For a long moment she does nothing, but then breaks out into a run towards Sebastian and his two guards, shouting at them to stop. I don't move, content to simply stand and watch from here.

Sierra runs up to him, turning him around so he faces her. He can't look her in the eye. She talks emotionally, though I can't really make out what she's saying. Sebastian doesn't respond. After a long while, she slaps him, tears in her eyes, before hugging him.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I turn to see John walking towards me. His eyes were red and there were bags under them, as if he hasn't slept at all. "Brother and sister reunited. If only one wasn't a prolific murderer."

"You knew Seraphim was Sebastian?" I say, "His disguise was pretty good, I'll admit. His demeanor is completely different. He changed his hair. It took me a while to figure it out."

"I knew it from the moment I saw him." John replies, but then he breathes in deep, turning to me. "Cyril, why did you drag me along to fight those PKers?"

The question catches me off guard. "You volunteered, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, but only because you wanted me to go." John shakes his head. "Damn it, Cyril, enough adventures!" I turn to him, and he seems despondent. "This isn't just another game! You can't just charge in blindly and expect to make it out alive!"

"I don't-"

"That's _all _you do, Cyril. Ever since the April Incident." John says, throwing up his arms. "It's like you don't even care whether you live or die anymore. And I've had enough of you putting yourself and everyone else around you in danger. I'm done."

"You could have easily told me you didn't want to go!" I respond angrily. "It's not like I forced you to do anything!"

"Do you realize exactly how difficult that is?" John states, "People follow you, Cyril. It's just natural. But you control us, expecting us to do exactly what it is you have planned. And woe be to those who disagree!"

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore, John." I shoot back. "I'm going solo, and you can run along back to the Army to prevent it from its inevitable collapse, if that's what you want." I can feel a bitter anger rising up within me, partly because of my refusal to accept what was true: He was right.

"Yeah, maybe I will." John folds his arms, saying nothing. He parts without another word, walking towards the teleport. He passes Sierra along the way, nodding at her and Sebastian before teleporting to Starting City.

Annoyed, but also mad at myself for letting John just leave, I seek distraction, walking towards where Sierra and Sebastian are talking – Sierra seems emotional, tears are in her eyes and she keeps fussing with Sebastian's hair and face.

"You'll message me, right?" Sierra asks, "Do they allow messaging in the prisons? And if anyone in the Army is hurting you, let me know. Okay?" Sebastian doesn't respond. "Okay? Damn it, say okay!"

"Okay..." Sebastian mumbles, looking away.

"I'll do everything I can to make sure nobody hurts you." Sierra smiles softly at him. One of the KoB guards motions for her to make it quick, that they have to head towards the prison now. "Alright, take care, brother. And remember," She pauses, swallowing, "I'm always going to love you, no matter what. And when this game is cleared, we have to meet again – in person, okay?"

"We will." Sebastian looks up, a certain intensity in his eyes. "I'll make sure of it."

Sierra nods, then the KoB guards start to lead him off. She waves as the blue fire of the teleport consumes them, and they're gone.

"You know he's going to escape." I say, walking up beside her. "It's likely going to happen within a few minutes, and Sebastian's going to go rogue again."

"I know." Sierra sighs. "But I guess I just want to hope that he'll just relax and wait until the game is cleared."

"That could be years from now. There's no way he'd do that." I shake my head. "Although, if they do manage to throw him in that prison, as unlikely as it is, he's likely to stay there for years. It could drive him mad."

"I'll make sure he's okay." Sierra says with certainty.

"Yeah," I admit, "I know you will."

o

**February 18, ****2023**** – 1****st ****Floor**** – 54 ****Days ****before ****the ****April ****Incident:**

I feel the biting numbness as the saber catches my left ear, slicing it clean off. I roll back onto my neck and shoulders, my legs recoiling, then kick out at Brian, impacting him in the middle of his chest. The armor dents slightly from the extra damage modifiers my Martial Arts skill gives my strike. Brian lurches back a step, giving me just enough time to jump to my feet. He swings the saber about awkwardly in front of him, his left hand thrashing about, his right arm hanging uselessly at his side.

"Damn you!" Brian shouts, charging at me again. I'm unarmed, but Brian must have a very low saber skill level, so I'm able to dance around his blade. Suddenly I feel very glad I decided to do that troublesome quest on the lower floors that unlocked Martial Arts.

As Brian slashes at me, I jump backwards, then abruptly turn towards him again, surprising Brian by dashing under his arm. I spy my target, the maul, and heft it in both hands. It's heavier than I thought, so as I swing it, my intended target, his head, is missed. Instead the maul hits the middle of his armor again, as Brian had just started to turn towards me.

Gasping with surprise, Brian drops the saber, but I keep up my attack, slamming the maul into his chest, his side, his arms, over and over again. The sheer weight of the blows keeps him off balance, unable to respond.

I shout, drawing the maul over my head and slamming it down. It impacts just right of the collarbone of the metal armor. Instead of bouncing off like I expected, there's a great shower of light as Brian's armor breaks, dematerializing suddenly, shockingly. Brian falls backwards, knocking one of the benches over, his chest and legs bare, only his feet, head and hands covered by armor. He scrambles backwards a step, but I get in close, and he knows he's trapped. I heft the maul over my shoulder, ready to smash his head in at any moment.

"I've proven it again, Christian." I shout, a primal euphoria coursing through my veins at the victory. "Brian is no match for me. To kill him would be a waste of time. He doesn't need to die to prove that I'm better."

"He is unworthy of life, Cyril." I hear Christian say. He's walking towards us now, from what I can judge to be his footsteps. A faint shriek of metal reveals he's picked up the saber, and soon Christian enters my field of vision, standing over Brian. With a flick of his wrist, he calls over one of his large guards, who drags Sierra with him.

"I'm not- not worthy of k-k-killing, right?" Brian fearfully states, his eyes wide and panicked with fear. "You can't kill me, I'm i-i-innocent!"

"To be honest, Brian," I glare at him, "You were just threatening to rape Sierra. You really don't deserve life." I pause for a long while, before looking up at Christian. "But I'm not going to play executioner. You can't make me kill this man, no matter how detestable he is. No matter how unworthy."

Christian sighs, and for just a moment I can see him as he really appears – a young kid, hardly older than Azaj is. He's a psychopath, but for just a moment, he seems pitifully young. Shaking his head, he raises his saber to Sierra's neck, and I feel myself freeze with horror.

"Brian dies," Christian's wicked smile returns, "Or she does."

Such a simple statement. A sentence composed of five words, each word averaging about four letters. None of the words are over five letters long. Yet despite its simplicity, these words impact me almost physically. I feel myself recoil, my arms shaking, my legs wobbling, my mind racing. Sierra or Brian. It's clear who I favored – I can hardly stand to look at Brian, let alone save his life. I think Brian see's that too; he starts to panic.

"Please Cyril! You don't have to do this! You don't have to kill me! There has to be another way!" Brian starts shouting hysterically. "Please don't do this to me! I've got a family! A mother, a sister! Please!"

"Silence, fool!" Christian shouts, and the saber jerks up further, resting on Sierra's throat. To me, "Kill him already so I don't have to hear his incessant whining! It's maddening."

"Nononono! PLEASE!" Brian tries to scramble away from me, but the second of Christian's burly guards, who I failed to notice before now, kneels by his head, taking off his helmet and holding him firmly in place. "I don't want to die!" His voice degrades into a pitiful wail. He starts blubbering and crying, barely intelligible. I grip the maul tight, still uncertain and made even more so by Brian's pathetic appearance. After a little while he composes himself enough to speak again. "I was just role-playing, see! I wasn't serious about all that I said about Sierra and violating her and the other girls and whatnot! It wasn't really me! I'm just an ordinary guy! I would have started college last month! You can't do this to me!"

"Enough of this drivel." Christian growls, the saber remaining menacingly at Sierra's throat. "Do it now, Cyril, or Sierra dies!"

I close my eyes, breathing deeply. I let the maul drop slightly, and I can hear Brian sigh with relief. When I open my eyes, Christian is eying me dangerously. I look into Sierra's scared eyes, glad that she hasn't be reduced into what Brian is when facing death. Below me, Brian sees me lower the maul. The gratefulness in him is palpable.

"Cyril, thank you. You made the right choice, you-" I raise the maul over my head, cutting him off. I stare directly into his eyes through the tears welling up in my own. His expression falters again, too shocked to speak.

"I'm sorry." I say simply, slamming the maul down onto Brian's head.


End file.
